


Learning to Breathe

by Gypsywriter135



Series: Counting Stars [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Booty Calls, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oral Sex, Pillow Talk, Slow Build, Smut, at least it will be, itll make your head spin, lots and lots of pillow talk, sways between angst and fluff and drama so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:21:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 57,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsywriter135/pseuds/Gypsywriter135
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Kirkland, running from his past, meets Gilbert Beilschmidt, a man who is not all quite what he seems and stubborn as a mule. Things spiral from there, but Arthur's not sure whether it's up or down that he's falling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bleep on the radar

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting for this fandom on here. Usually I just use my ff.net account, but I intend for this to be a part of a series, so I'm trying something new.
> 
> I've proofread this, but it's not beta'd. So any mistakes you find/see are whatever.

  
_"Detect my sudden existence on your sonar_   
_You feel the echo"_   


* * *

He had only been at the party for an hour before Arthur Kirkland deeply regretted his decision. 

In that hour since he had arrived, he had had his jacket roughly torn from his frame, handed a blue solo cup full of a disgusting tasting drink that tried to pass as an alcoholic beverage, and had done nothing more than stand next to the dessert table. He knew only one person at this entire thing, and that was his host, who had yet to even come over to greet him. Arthur clicked his tongue in disproval.

 The music, some sort of screaming metal death match, was much too loud. People were dressed much too scantily, and Arthur felt much older than his twenty-five years.

 Oh, sure, there were many other people around who were his age, but Arthur didn’t dare approach them; they were dressed in clothes that had him averting his eyes, unsure of where to look. 

So, he had remained near the table in utter silence for the hour, occasionally taking a sip of this horrid beer and cringing every time.

He didn’t mind people watching; in fact, it was part of what made Arthur good at his job. Knowing how to read the other people in the room was a good thing to have when you were a politician; it helped Arthur decide which tactic he should use to get what he wanted.

Which was how he found himself drawn toward another young man sitting grumpily in the corner. Arthur felt a sympathetic tug in his chest and discreetly made his way over to the man, hoping that some kindred soul would save him from this nightmare.

“You look like you’re having a blast,” he said sarcastically as he sat down on the couch next to the tall blond. 

The man turned towards him, startled for a moment, before sighing and leaning back against the couch cushion.

“Oh, yes,” he said in with a German accent. “I’m so happy I came.”

The sarcasm made Arthur wince in sympathy. “I’m assuming you were dragged here against your will,” he continued, trying not to let the conversation die; he needed something to occupy himself before he could leave. He had to be a proper gentleman, after all, and staying the allotted two hours was mandatory to make a good impression.

“Kicking and screaming,” the man replied. He sighed. “I didn’t stand a chance when my brother and boyfriend double-teamed me.”

“Ouch,” Arthur replied. “That bad, huh?”

“When the two of them team up like that?” the man asked, face pinched. “No, not even angels could save me.”

Arthur gave a sympathetic chuckle, taking a sip of his beer and making a face at the taste. The other man was watching him with bright blue eyes.

“I’m assuming you’re in a similar situation,” he asked, eyes flicking between the cup and Arthur’s green eyes.

Arthur nodded. “Alfred’s a family friend. When he asked if I wanted to come over for a small get together, how could I say no? I just wasn’t prepared for a full out party.”

The man cracked a smile at that, and Arthur frowned. “What?”

“For Alfred?” he asked. “This _is_ small. Usually there’s the entire frat house here.”

“Of course,” Arthur muttered. “I guess I should have expected as much from a recent graduate.”

The man hummed thoughtfully, a slightly amused smile on his face, and Arthur grinned back. He held out the hand that wasn’t holding his drink. “Arthur Kirkland.”

“Ludwig Beilschmidt,” the man said, taking the hand and shaking. He had a good grip, Arthur thought to himself as they let go and sat together on the sofa for a quiet moment.

“So how do you know Alfred?” Arthur asked, trying to make small talk; now that he had an ally, there was no way he was letting him go.

“My brother was his mentor of sorts when he was still in college,” Ludwig sighed. “Unfortunately, I’ve been roped into many of their shenanigans because of it. It doesn’t help that my boyfriend goes along without any thought of the consequences.”

Arthur laughed. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

Ludwig groaned. “More than you know. Between the two of them and Alfred’s weekend excursions, it’s like taking care of children.”

“I believe that,” Arthur replied. “Is your brother older or younger than you are?”

“Older, unfortunately. Sometimes it feels like I’m older, though, with the way he acts.”

Arthur nodded. “I know how you feel. I’ve got three older brothers myself, and they all act like children when they’re together.”

The tall blond laughed. “Sounds like your house was interesting.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” the Brit groaned. He opened his mouth to elaborate when a brown blur suddenly rammed into the sofa, and he was left staring open-mouthed at Ludwig who suddenly had his arms full of another man.

“Ludwig!” the newcomer shrieked, and Arthur just barely resisted the urge to reach up and cover his ears at the high pitch. “Ludwig, why are you sitting all the way over here?”

Ludwig scowled at the man. “Because I don’t want to be here.”

The brunet pouted. “But Gil is downstairs and so is Elizaveta and Roderich and Antonio and Francis and-”

“Yes, yes, all our friends are downstairs,” Ludwig interrupted, and Arthur perked up.

“I’m sorry, but are you talking about Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo?” he asked.

Ludwig and the other man blinked at him.

“Yes, actually,” the newcomer replied, cocking his head to the side as if he had noticed Arthur for the first time. His brown hair framed his face, a single strand sticking out with a curl at the end. Arthur stared at it curiously. “Who are you?”

Arthur began to feel slightly uncomfortable under the man’s big brown-eyed stare. “Um, Arthur Kirkland?”

“Feli, don’t be rude,” Ludwig admonished lightly. He turned back to Arthur. “How do you know Francis and Antonio?”

Arthur took a huge swig of his beer and grimaced. Whether it was from the taste or the memories, he wasn’t sure. “I went to high school with them”

Brown eyes widened and the small man stood up, practically bouncing as he took Arthur’s free hand and dragged him up. Arthur stumbled a moment before he was being roughly pulled through the crowed.

“Feliciano, wait!” Ludwig cried, and Arthur heard him clambering after them. “You can’t just grab people you’ve just met!”

“But they’ll all want to see you!” the man named Feliciano crowed and turned a happy grin at Arthur, who blinked. “If you went to high school with them, then it’ll be just like a reunion.”

“Um, actually,” Arthur tried to explain to Feliciano that he purposely hadn’t gone to his reunion because _he didn’t care_. That, and he and the other two didn’t necessarily get along well…

“Hey, hey!” Feliciano shouted as Arthur was pulled down the steps into the basement and towards a small congregation of people surrounding a beer pong table. “Guys, look!”

Immediately, seven pairs of eyes were on him. Now, normally Arthur wouldn’t have had a problem with this, seeing as he did give speeches to large rooms with many more people in it for a living. But this was not a crowd that he really wanted to see, let alone talk with.

He immediately hated Feliciano. And he internally cursed himself for having proper manners and not leaving earlier.

Damn it all to hell.

“Arthur Kirkland?” a blond man asked with a French accent, blue eyes wide with long blond hair pulled back in a stylish ponytail. “Arthur Kirkland, is that you?”

Arthur yanked his hand out of Feliciano’s sweaty grip. Ludwig reached the bottom of the steps and stopped at the tense atmosphere in the room.

“No way,” a brunet man with deep green eyes breathed in a thick Spanish accent. “Arthur?”

The ponytail man rushed up and looped an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur scowled. “Arthur, mon ami! It has been quite a long time since we’ve seen you!”

“There’s a good reason for that,” Arthur replied, his scowl deepening as Francis, for who else could it be, led him deeper into the room. Behind them, he could hear Ludwig gently chastising Feliciano.

“Oh, you wound me,” Francis pouted, exchanging an amused look with the Spanish man. “Antonio, haven’t you missed Arthur as much as I have?”

“Si!” Antonio chirped cheerfully. Arthur frowned and ducked out from under Francis’ arm.

“You’re all a bunch of wankers,” he told them. “There’s a reason I haven’t been back here before now.”

Francis opened his mouth to respond before a loud guffaw of laughter filled the room, cutting him off. People parted to stare at the source, a tall, lanky pale man with silver, almost white-looking hair and… were his eyes _red_?

Arthur was just glad that, for moment, the attention was taken off of himself.

“Did you just say ‘wankers’?” the man laughed, doubling over and sloshing the drink he had in his hand all over the place.

“Bruder, please,” came Ludwig’s voice from behind Arthur. “Be polite.”

“He’s had a little to much to drink,” a stiff brunet man with glasses clipped. Beside him, a young woman sat and frowned at the pale man.

“Let’s be real,” she sniffed. “He’s drunk the majority of the cooler.”

The pale man shrugged and leaned against the pool table that was next to him. “It’s a party, what do you want me to do?”

“Have some self control!” the brunet snapped. He turned exasperated violet eyes on Ludwig, who stepped forward, Feliciano trailing behind him.

“Bruder, I think that’s enough,” he said, gently prying the cup of beer out of the man’s hand.

“Hey!” the man protested and attempted to swat the large German, but missed terribly. Arthur thought he might be able to slip away while everyone’s attention was diverted. As he edged away from the cluster of people, a tanned arm shot out and grabbed his wrist in a vice-like hold.

“Amigo, you just got here!” Antonio said with a large smile. “You haven’t even met everyone yet!”

“I am not your friend,” Arthur snapped, yanking his arm out and turned around. He bumped into a smirking Francis instead.

“Ah, don’t let Gilbert ruin the moment,” the Frenchman tutted, laying a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and spinning him around. “He’s just overdone it a little.”

“A little?” Arthur scoffed, wriggling away from the man. “I’d say he’s completely plastered.”

Francis and Antonio shrugged. “It’s Gilbert,” they said in unison, as if that explained everything. Arthur rolled his eyes as Ludwig argued with the intoxicated Gilbert. The man and woman from earlier shook their heads.

“Roderich, Elizaveta!” Francis called, catching their attention. Arthur cursed internally. Now there was no hope for an escape. Why did he have to be social and try to communicate with people? He should have just left and then this entire thing could have been avoided.

“This is Arthur Kirkland!” Francis told them. “We’re old high school friends!”

“We are not!” Arthur corrected angrily. “The two of you were absolute morons the entire time we were there together!”

Antonio gave a shrug. “We were kids, what do you expect?”

Arthur opened his mouth to reply when Francis interrupted him. “Arthur, this is Roderich and Elizaveta. Roderich’s a coworker of mine and Elizaveta, his fiancée, used to be friends with Gilbert when they were kids. And speaking of Gilbert, the drunk man that is attempting to grope Ludwig’s future husband is him.”

“Yes, I gathered that, thank you,” Arthur said, slightly disturbed. Gilbert was, in fact, refusing to listen to his brother in favor of grabbing Feliciano’s ass. 

Francis pointed to a quiet, black-haired man in the corner. “That’s Kiku. He went to school with Alfred and Ludwig.”

“And this beautiful little tomato is Lovino!” Antonio cried, reaching out to grab what could have been Felicano’s twin. He had a different shade of brown hair and different eyes, but other than that, the two looked exactly alike, down to the stray curl.

“Let me go, idiot!” the man snapped, smacking Antonio who just grinned. “I told you to never call me that!”

Antonio gushed over the other man, who kept insulting him. Feliciano seemed to evade Gilbert, who was sitting and pouting on the pool table while Ludwig lectured him quietly.

“So you went to high school with Francis and Antonio?” Roderich asked as Francis steered Arthur to sit on the couch next to the couple. The four of them crowded on the cushions as a glass of red wine seemed to magically appear in Francis’ hand.

The Brit sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Ah, that sounds like so much fun!” Elizaveta cooed, smiling at him as she leaned over her betrothed.

Ever the gentleman, Arthur returned the smile, even if it was a little strained. “For them, maybe. I hated them while we were there together.”

“That’s just because old Artie here couldn’t take a joke,” Francis snickered.

Arthur bristled. “Locking me in the freezer to keep me from the fútbol team tryouts is not a joke!”

The Spanish man chuckled. “You made the team, anyways. Don’t act like it was the end of the world.”

“So, Arthur,” Roderich spoke up, talking above the quarreling men. “I’m assuming that you know Alfred through family?”

The blonde man was grateful for the change of topic. He already liked this Roderich chap. He nodded. “Our fathers were close, so we were at a lot of family functions together. How do you know Alfred?”

Elizaveta gave him a smile, though it was a little strained when Gilbert loudly began to sing in German, much to Ludwig’s dismay, it seemed.

“Roderich and I live next door to Ludwig and Gilbert,” she said. “Alfred’s always over there because of Gilbert, so we got to know him through them. When he invited us to this party, we just couldn’t say no.”

“Though I’m regretting it a little now…” Roderich muttered as Gilbert’s volume rose. Ludwig was desperately attempting to get him under control, while Lovino stood next to Feliciano and watched in amusement.

“He’ll calm down in a moment,” came a soft voice, and Arthur started briefly as the man named Kiku stepped forward. “He’s just a little overexcited at the moment.”

“He’s always overexcited,” Roderich sighed, pushing up his glasses with an elegant hand. Arthur wondered if he played an instrument.

“So, Arthur, what are you doing nowadays?” Francis asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“I work for the Senator,” Arthur told him proudly. “I oversee all the clients and propose ideas to some of the other Senators when he’s unavailable.”

Antonio whistled, impressed, as he sat on the chair next to the couch. “Whoa,” he said. “That’s interesting.”

Arthur internally preened. “What about you guys? I’m going to assume that the lifelong dream of becoming a tomato and a movie star didn’t really pan out for you.” He snickered.

For their part, the other two didn’t flinch. Kiku came forward and stiffly sat in the folding chair by the wall, as he quietly sipped at his drink. Roderich and Elizaveta grinned. Gilbert’s voice got quieter, and the two Italian brothers were quietly discussing something in the corner.

“No,” Francis sighed. “My looks were not meant for the camera.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Mon ami, I have the most wonderful job! I am a marriage counselor now!” 

“Of course you are…” Arthur muttered.

“I have my own tomato farm!” Antonio chirped, a huge grin on his face. “I’m not a tomato, sadly, but that’s okay, because I get to work with them and I’ve got a wonderful boyfriend who blushes like a tomato!”

Arthur nearly ducked when Lovino shot the Spanish man a glare that would have the strongest man cowering in fear. Antonio’s obliviousness made him not notice it.

“You guys really haven’t changed,” Arthur said as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“You haven’t really changed much, either, amigo!” Antonio said. “Are you and Neeraja still-”

Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat as he suddenly stood up, surprising the people around him. He even heard Gilbert’s loud racket quiet as all eyes once more turned to him. “I’m getting thirsty,” he said in a rush, feeling his face heat up as he edged toward the staircase. “Would anyone else like something while I’m upstairs?”

“We have a cooler down here…” Kiku replied, head cocked to the side.

“No? Great!” he blabbered and made a bolt to the steps. He didn’t stop until he reached the kitchen around the corner of the stairs. He looked around at all the bottles of liquor and the empty space and sighed, leaning against the wall, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

He did _not_ want to deal with this. It had taken Arthur _months_ to get over the man, and he was doing just fine, he thought. Having a reminder of the old days was the last thing he wanted.

He should have left earlier. He could be at home right now, sitting in his favorite armchair with a cup of Earl Grey and his new book as his cat, Sir Ignatius, sat on his lap. But no, he was a good sport and stayed and now everything he had carefully avoided was coming back up and he just really didn’t want to deal with this, thank you very much. 

Arthur knocked the back of his head against the wall once, reveling in the small discomfort it brought him.

“Artie!” came a loud voice, and Arthur groaned, opening his eyes. A tall, muscular sandy-blond haired man was coming eagerly toward him. “There you are!”

“Hello, Alfred,” he sighed, standing up straight.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Alfred cried, grin huge on his face. There was a huge bottle of beer clenched in his hand. “Mattie said that you got here, but I haven’t been able to track you down!”

“I was downstairs,” Arthur told him, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to point at the steps.

Alfred’s grin got wider. “Great! So you know the guys are here!”

The British man sighed. “Yes, I had the unfortunate pleasure of already talking with them.”

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad!”

Arthur spun around and his green eyes landed on none other than Gilbert. The tall man was smirking as he leaned against the door jam, red eyes raking over Arthur once before he turned them to Alfred.

“Gil!” the younger man exclaimed. “I was wondering where you got off to!”

“Ah, you know me,” Gilbert chuckled. “Just follow the beer, and you’ll find me!”

“Of course, of course!” Alfred grinned. He got a look on his face that said he just came up with an idea. “Hey, have you met Arthur?”

“Actually,” Arthur said, frowning. He wasn’t really in the mood to deal with this level of intoxication. “We met-”

“No, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” Gilbert cut in, eyes shimmering with amusement and something else Arthur couldn’t place. The pale man stuck out his hand, and Arthur was surprised to see it being held steady. “Gilbert Beilschmidt,” he said.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and, for a second, thought about not taking the hand, but he saw Alfred watching out of the corner of his eye and internally sighed. Curse his good manners. He took the hand and, through gritted teeth, replied, “Arthur Kirkland.”

“Arthur’s an old family friend,” Alfred explained enthusiastically as the two broke apart. “We go way back, don’t we, Art?” He elbowed the small man playfully in the ribs.

“Please refrain from those stupid nicknames,” Arthur grumbled, still suspiciously eyeing Gilbert, who just grinned cat-like at him.

“Gilbert’s awesome!” Alfred went on, completely oblivious. “He taught me everything he knows, didn’t ya’?”

Gilbert chuckled. “Well, not everything. Gotta keep some things to myself, after all.”

Alfred’s grin got impossibly wider, and he opened his mouth to reply when a crash from the adjoining room sounded through the house. Alfred winced a bit, grin dropping as a deep voice screamed in apology.

“Ugh, sounds like Mathias threw the bean bag too hard again,” he groaned. He turned a blue, glasses framed eye to his two guests before he waved his hand at them. “I gotta go take care of this, but you two go ahead and mingle! You two have a lot in common! Arthur works in politics and Gilbert… well, he lives in his brother’s basement!” Gilbert sent him a glare while Arthur snickered. Alfred paused when another crash and another yell reached them. He winced.  “So…” he waved his hand once more, frowning. “Talk!” he commanded before he disappeared around the corner.

Loud voices accompanied his disappearance and Arthur stood awkwardly in the kitchen with a man who may or may not have been as drunk as he seemed.

“So,” Gilbert drawled, smirk back on his face. “Politics, huh? Wouldn’t think someone like you would be involved in something like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur bristled, frowning.

Gilbert shrugged. “Whatever you want it to mean.”

The blonde frowned deeper. “Aren’t you supposed to be drunk?”

The other man waved a hand in the air. “What West doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, that whole group is so stuffy down there, they needed someone to liven things up.” He grinned. “But, of course, I wasn’t needed once you got there.”

Arthur stared at him, not amused. He didn’t need this. In fact, he was done. He was done with this party, he was done with these people, and was certainly done with this man in front of him. He hadn’t even met him for more than thirty minutes and Arthur already didn’t like him.

“I’m out of here,” he muttered, turning around and striding to the room with the jackets. He was going home, good manners be damned.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Gilbert said, and, to Arthur’s dismay, followed him. “We were just getting to know each other.”

“I don’t want to get to know _you_ ,” Arthur snipped, rummaging through the pile of coats, looking for his own. “And I definitely don’t want to get reacquainted with the wankers downstairs.”

A snicker flowed from behind him. “There’s that word again,” Gilbert said. “You really fit the British stereotype, you know that?”

“Yes, well, I’m actually proud of that, thank you very much,” Arthur snapped, pulling his coat free and slipping it on. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving.” He brushed shoulders roughly with Gilbert as he passed through the door.

“Aw, but we were having so much fun,” Gilbert pouted, still following him. “Stay a bit longer. We’ll talk politics.”

“I’d rather eat dirt,” Arthur deadpanned. He shot Gilbert a glare when the two reached the front door. “I’d say it was nice to meet you, but that’d be lying, and I don’t like to lie.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “A politician who doesn’t like lying?” he gasped in an overly dramatic way.

“You’re the biggest wanker of them all,” Arthur told him. “Go back to fooling your brother and being… whatever it is that you are or do or whatever.”

Gilbert gave a mock salute. “Sir, yes sir!” he cried, smirk on his face.

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned to head out the door. Right before he closed the door, there was a sharp sting on his butt and he let out a yelp. He whipped around to glare at Gilbert, who only smirked more at him and closed the door with a little wave. Arthur heard him laugh loudly and as he let out a sigh, his breath forming a cloud in the cold night air. He walked towards his car, still cursing himself for coming.


	2. The lie that you adore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur really hates everything

 

_“Electrify the resistance in your broken heart_

_And burn it up, oh_

_We’re gonna photosynthesize and drink up the sunrise”_  

* * *

Arthur sighed as he sat down on the empty bar stool, setting his coat on the one beside him. He signaled to the bartender, who nodded and came over to him.

“Scotch on the rocks,” he said tiredly.

The man nodded and got an empty glass. “Rough day?”

“Rough week,” Arthur groaned as the man handed the hal-full glass over. He took a sip, relishing in the feel of the alcohol as it burned down his throat.

“Want to talk about it?” the bartender asked, leaning on the counter as he polished a glass.

“Not particularly,” Arthur replied, taking another sip. “I’d just like to know if all men are as stupid as political men.”

The bartender gave him a sympathetic look, then turned around and grabbed the bottle of scotch off the shelf. He set it on the counter next to Arthur. “You’re going to be needing a lot more if you get involved with that crowd.”

Arthur nodded his thanks as the man’s attention was drawn toward another customer. He swirled his drink around in the glass before he took a sip once more.

This week had been torture. Between the crazy meeting schedule and the idiotic men that he’d had to deal with, Arthur was exhausted. He’d probably gotten four or five hours of sleep every night because his boss was an asshole-Arthur actually liked his boss, but not on weeks like this-who liked to run him around all day and night.

All week, Arthur had kept up the steady mantra of “I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.” If he didn’t, then there was a good chance that he’d just up and quit. If it wasn’t the long and grueling work hours, then it was the horrendous way he was treated by the other people who worked with him.

Poor Sir Ignatius had hardly been brushed all week. Arthur was a terrible pet owner.

Gritting his teeth, Arthur drained the rest of his glass and poured himself another, grateful that the bartender had had the foresight to leave the bottle with him. At least some people in this god-forsaken town had some decency.

There was a thump on the barstool next to him, and Arthur drew in his elbows, making room for the other person. The bartender returned.

“Gimme the best beer you’ve got,” came a familiar voice and Arthur started, groaning when he caught himself.

“What are you doing here?” he growled, turning to look the newcomer in the eye.

Gilbert gave him a fake surprised look. “Arthur! It is Arthur, right? Fancy meeting you here!”

Arthur rolled his eyes as the bartender returned with Gilbert’s drink and left. Gilbert took a long swing. “Ah,” he said when he had drained half the glass. “Das ist gut,” he muttered, grinning at Arthur. “So, Artie, whatcha doin’ here?”

“Please don’t,” Arthur sighed, swirling his own drink.

“Everyone missed you at the party last weekend after you left. I think Antonio cried.”

Arthur shot him a glare. “Uh huh.”

“You missed a good time,” Gilbert continued. “Francis and Antonio were recounting their high school days with you. Did you really blow up the kitchen?”

Arthur stiffened. “That wasn’t my fault,” he snapped. “Those two idiots left my oven mitt next to the stove burner. When I went to grab the pan, I knocked the mitt into the flame.”

Gilbert let out a loud laugh, and Arthur winced as the rest of the crowded bar turned to look at him.

“Would you mind keeping it down?” he hissed. “You’re too loud!”

Gilbert shrugged and gulped a mouthful of his drink. “Life’s too short to be quiet.”

“Is that why you’re living in your brother’s basement?” Arthur smirked. He took a victory sip as Gilbert glared at him.

“I live in my brother’s basement because basement rooms are awesome,” Gilbert growled, draining the rest of his glass and signaled the bartender for another. “At least it’s better than some stupid politician job.”

“My job is not stupid,” Arthur snapped.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s why you look like death warmed over,” Gilbert said, rolling his eyes as his new beer arrived.

“I had a rough week!” Arthur replied. “I’m allowed to have a rough few days every now and then!”

“Doesn’t seem worth it to me.”

“And what is it exactly that you do for a living?” Arthur inquired testily. “I don’t recall what you told me.”

Gilbert shrugged, shoulders tense. “I do enough.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that,” Arthur replied. He smirked.

“I said I do enough,” Gilbert snapped, and Arthur internally cheered. At last, he seemed to rile up the confident man.

“And what, exactly, does that entail?”

Gilbert glared at him. “It involves none of your business.”

Arthur bristled, feeling annoyed. “What, so it’s okay for you to badger me, but when I badger you, it’s frowned upon.”

“Yes, actually,” Gilbert snipped.

Arthur rolled his eyes, draining his glass once more before grabbing his wallet and leaving cash and a tip on the counter. He grabbed his jacket and slid off the stool.

“Thank you for this stimulating conversation,” he said sarcastically, glaring at Gilbert. The pale man actually looked surprised. “But as I’ve said, I’ve had a long week. So if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go home now.” And with that, Arthur headed towards the door.

He heard a clamor behind him before his wrist was grabbed. He spun around to glare at Gilbert, who cocked his head.

“Wait!” he said.

Arthur gave his wrist a tug, breaking away from the man’s grip. “You’ve got thirty seconds,” he replied.

“Lemme take you out,” Gilbert said in an awkward rush. “I know this great place where you’re bound to have a good time.”

Arthur blinked at him, unsure of where he was going with this.

“Why?” he asked slowly, suspicion clouding his words as his eyes narrowed.

Gilbert shrugged. “I like you,” he stated simply.

The British man blinked, frowning. “No.”

“Come on,” Gilbert pleaded. “Just one hour. If you don’t like it, then you can leave.”

“Again, I express the need to know why,” Arthur said.

“Look,” Gilbert said, running a hand through his hair. “I dunno why, but I like you. And I just think that, after the week you had and the way you look-which is still like crap, by the way-that you need a way to wind down.”

Arthur stared at him. There was more to this, he knew. This man who he had just met last weekend for less than an hour and then a second time wanted to take him out. Alarm bells were going off in Arthur’s head. He just wanted to go home and sleep for about thirteen hours, brush his cat, maybe do some yard work. He did not want to go with this wack-o and do heaven knows what.

But there was also a part of his brain-the part that had consumed two glasses of scotch-that urged Arthur to go with Gilbert. The small part that told him that sitting at home in solitude wasn’t a good thing, not if he wanted to forget.

And boy, did Arthur want to forget.

Somehow, that part of his brain won out, and Arthur sighed. He held the door open for the taller man, pointing a finger in his face.

“One hour,” he solidified. “No more. And then you leave me alone, you got it?”

Gilbert smiled and nodded, brushing past Arthur to the cool night air. Arthur followed and easily caught up with him.

“I’m going to regret this,” Arthur murmured. “I just know it.”

“Aw, cheer up, Art!” Gilbert crowed, grinning. “You’ll love it!”

“Don’t call me Art,” Arthur snapped. The two stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the sign to change.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Gilbert asked.

Arthur huffed. “My name is Arthur, so I expect people to call me Arthur. I don’t suppose you enjoy being called Gil, do you?”

The other man shrugged. “I don’t care. People call me Gil sometimes. Doesn’t really bother me.”

“Well, nicknames bother me,” Arthur said, the light turning. They crossed quickly. “I don’t understand the appeal of calling someone something besides the name they were born with.”

Gilbert laughed. “You’re interesting, you know that?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

Gilbert smacked Arthur on the ass, making him yelp. He glared at Gilbert, who smirked. “Lighten up, Arthur!” he said. “You’ll have a great time, I promise!”

* * *

As it turned out, Gilbert’s idea of a “great time” was, apparently, going to a gay club. While Arthur didn’t have a problem with the gay population, he was not in the mood, however, to be flirted with and hit on.

Gilbert knew the owner of the establishment, and within a few minutes of getting through the door, had promptly disappeared, leaving Arthur standing awkwardly to the side and dismissing any and all advances that were thrust upon.

He liked to use the word “thrust” literally in this situation.

Somehow, he made it over to the bar and ordered a drink. At this point, he didn’t really care what it was, so long as it was strong. Within thirty minutes, he was feeling the pleasant buzz of the alcohol running through his system and a bit of the tension around his shoulders loosened.

He was still pissed off that Gilbert had ditched him.

And the brunet sitting a ways down kept ogling him. Arthur tried not make eye contact.

His efforts were futile and a moment later, the masked man settled himself down next Arthur.

“Let me buy your next drink,” he asked, the hint of a Turkish accent slipping out.

“Thanks,” Arthur said, giving the man an apologetic smile. “But I think I’m actually finished for tonight. Maybe another time.” Which would be never, because Arthur was never coming back here and he was going to silently plot the murder of one Gilbert Beilschmidt.

The man smiled back. “Nonsense. I insist.” He waved over the bartender and another drink was set in front of Arthur.

Being the gentleman that he was, it would be rude to refuse the drink. And heaven knew that Arthur, despite his moronic brothers, was a true gentleman. But he was also tired and fed up with everything. These two sides warred within him as Arthur stared at the pink drink.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” the man was saying, sipping at his own drink. “Are you new here?”

Smalltalk. Arthur wanted to stab himself in the eye with the straw.

“A friend dragged me,” he muttered, figuring one more drink couldn’t hurt. A part of him internally cringed at referring to Gilbert as a friend, but at this point, it couldn’t be helped.

But that was it. He was out of there afterwards.

“Your friend has good taste,” the man said. He held out a hand. “Name’s Sadiq.”

Arthur, once again the gentleman, shook it. “Arthur,” he replied.

“You’re dressed much too fancy for here,” Sadiq went on, eyeing Arthur once again. “Come from work?”

Arthur nodded.

“Where do you work?”

“Downtown.”

Sadiq chuckled. “Let me rephrase that,” he said. “What do you do?”

Arthur was about to reply, when he realized that saying he was in politics could potentially backfire. Call him what you wanted, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew how to play the game, and politics were always messy, no matter what happened.

Grasping at straws for a reasonable lie – _you’re a politician, you imbecile; think of something!_ – Arthur drained his drink. “I’m an office clerk,” he said. It was a half-truth; he did do a lot of filing and schedule appointing and whatnot. It worked.

Sadiq’s eyes widened as he smiled. “Really? Boss must be tough judging by the way you’re so tense.”

Arthur groaned. “You don’t know the half of it.”

His vision was suddenly filled with Sadiq’s bare chest. Arthur blinked, looking up at the man in confusion and slight trepidation.

“I know how you can relieve some of that stress,” he purred, and Arthur gulped. Sadiq ran a finger down Arthur’s arm. Arthur’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, ready to tell the man off, when the sound of his name made him turn.

He’d never been so happy to see Gilbert.

“There you are!” the tall man cried, grinning and sweating. A tall, half-naked blond trailed behind him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Gil!” Sadiq exclaimed. His face was twisted in a dark grin. “I didn’t know you were here tonight!”

“Spur of the moment,” Gilbert told him, flashing the taller man a knowing grin. He grabbed Arthur’s wrist and thrust him at the blond. “Artie, this is Berwald. Berwald, Arthur. Berwald’s the nicest guy here, and he’s agreed to help you get comfortable.” Arthur squawked as he slammed into Berwald’s chiseled chest.

He turned to glare at Gilbert, who winked at him. “You be good, now!”

“C’m with me,” Berwald mumbled so quietly that Arthur wasn’t sure how he heard it over the loud music and catcalls. He was swiftly led through the crowd, and to a private room. As he walked he saw a blond man with long hair dressed in drag; he was much prettier than most of the women Arthur had seen lately.

“Dammit, Gilbert,” he heard Sadiq exclaim. “Why must you insist on cockblocking everyone?”

Gilbert laughed. “Trust me when I tell you that Arthur? Yeah, he’s way out of your league.”

Arthur felt some pride that Gilbert thought so much of him after only meeting him before the music and people faded as he and Berwald entered a closed off area, tucked away from all the sights and sounds.

“’M doin’ th’s as a f’vor,” Berwald mumbled as he gently pushed Arthur down on a couch, coming up and straddling him.

Arthur sputtered. “I do not think that this is necessary,” he said, eyes wide as Berwald began to grind against him.

The man ignored him and Arthur felt his face grow red as the friction caused all the blood to go south.

“Really, it’s okay,” Arthur stuttered. Berwald put both his hands on the wall behind them, arms trapping Arthur’s head. Berwald was quite a bit larger than Arthur was, in more ways than one, and Arthur actually gulped at the way the entire situation may or may not have been headed.

Again, the other man said nothing, and Arthur gasped when he moved a particular way. His dress trousers were getting quite a bit tight.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Arthur muttered, any and all previous good thoughts about Gilbert flying from his mind.

Resistance was useless, and as the night went on, no matter how enjoyable it felt, Arthur was mentally plotting the best way to murder Gilbert and hide the evidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT BUT IT'S THE SHORTEST CHAPTER I PROMISE EVERYTHING ELSE IS REALLY LONG


	3. Light up the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur becomes Gilbert's newest project and wonders how exactly that happens

_“So do they ever shut up because you said so or_   
_Do you overthink ’em all_   
_Somebody ought to corrupt you on the dance floor_   
_And take you home”_

* * *

Arthur was on his lunch break when his phone vibrated. Curiously, he fished it out of his pocket and flipped it open; not many people called him. His brothers and he weren’t close, and Alfred only had his number in case of an emergency.

An unknown number flashed up at him. He was tempted to ignore it; if it was important, then the person would leave a message. But a part of him was strangely curious, and so he pressed the button, holding the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Arthur!” came a familiar cheerful voice. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice!”

Arthur scowled. “How did you get this number?”

“Alfred gave it to me,” Gilbert said, and Arthur could _hear_ the smile on his face.

“I’m hanging up now,” Arthur deadpanned.

“Wait!” Gilbert cried. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Why?” Arthur groused, picking at his salad.

“Berwald said you disappeared after sucking you off,” Gilbert said, and Arthur prayed that the volume on his phone was down. “We looked everywhere in the club for you!”

“Yeah, I went home,” Arthur said. “Wasn’t really feeling it.”

Gilbert snickered. “That’s not what Berwald said.”

Arthur felt his face heat up. “Yes, well…” he struggled for something to say, coming up with nothing. “I didn’t have a great time like you promised.”

“Look, if this is about Sadiq, just forget him. He’s a jerk.”

“No, this is about the fact that you ditched me and then pushed some random guy onto me,” Arthur hissed. “That was not the kind of fun I was expecting!”

“But you _did_ have fun, right?” Gilbert asked.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “No, genius. I left because I was having a good time.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Gilbert spoke. “I’ll take you out again this weekend. Different place, but I guarantee that you’ll have a better time.”

“No,” Arthur replied immediately. “I’m never going out with you again. Besides, you promised that you’d leave me alone after I went.”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Gilbert sang, and Arthur tensed. He was going to regret something, he just knew it. “We agreed that you’d stay for an hour.”

“Yeah, so?” Arthur snapped.

“You were only there for fifty minutes,” Gilbert told him.

“So I was ten minutes short,” Arthur drawled, rolling his eyes. “Close enough.”

“No!” Gilbert cried loudly. Arthur had to briefly pull the phone away from his ear. “One hour, then I’d leave you alone. You were ten minutes short! So I’m taking you out again this weekend until you have fun!”

“What am I, your new project?” Arthur growled.

“Yup!” was the chirped response. Arthur blinked. “Meet me at the bar we met at last weekend at eight on Friday! Don’t be late!” Before Arthur could protest, Gilbert hung up. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it.

Arthur sighed, closing his phone and sitting back in his chair. He glanced at his watch, groaning when he realized that his lunch break was almost over. Curse Gilbert. And curse Alfred for giving the man his phone number.

He stood, pocketing his phone and throwing away the remnants of his lunch before heading back to the office.

Like hell he was going on Friday.

* * *

 Arthur opened the door and promptly shut it when Gilbert’s grinning face appeared. The loud knocking continued until Arthur opened the door again, glaring.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped. “And how did you find out where I lived?”

“Alfred!” Gilbert crowed. “And I’m here because you weren’t gonna show up tonight.”

“Damn straight I wasn’t going to show up,” Arthur grumbled as Gilbert pushed his way through the door. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

Gilbert turned in the foyer, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking at the blond. “I’m not leaving unless you come with me.” 

Arthur held the door open farther. “Get out,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Not true,” Gilbert smiled. “It’s just one night. We’ll drink, mingle, have a good time, and then I won’t bother you again.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Arthur told him, frowning. “Please leave.”

“You didn’t keep up your part of the bargain last time.”

“It was ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes too short.”

“I’m not going.”

“And neither am I.”

“I will call the police.”

“Make sure it’s Ned who answers the phone, ja? We go way back.”

“Of course,” Arthur muttered to himself. Sir Ignatius crawled around the corner and wound himself around Arthur’s ankles.

“You have a cat!” Gilbert cried, eyes going wide. His grin grew.

“Yes, but he doesn’t like strangers,” Arthur said. Of course, the moment Gilbert crouched down and held his hands out to the feline, Sir Ignatius cautiously stalked over to him, sniffed his fingers, and proceeded to nuzzle into his hand, purring loudly. Arthur gaped as Gilbert scooped the cat up, petting him softly. Sir Ignatius licked the man’s cheek.

“Well, I’ll be,” Arthur breathed.

“Aren’t you adorable,” Gilbert cooed to the creature. He turned red eyes to Arthur. “What’s his name?”

“Sir Ignatius,” Arthur replied, slowly shutting the door, watching the two.

Gilbert laughed. “That’s unique,” he said. He held the cat away from him for a moment before smiling. “I’ll call him Iggy instead.”

“You will not,” Arthur declared. The traitorous little shit was never getting catnip again.

“Come with me tonight, then,” Gilbert replied, grinning around the fur of the cat. “Just one more night. That’s it, I promise.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “One more chance,” he said. “But that’s it. You will leave me alone then, right?”

“Sure thing, Art,” Gilbert said.

“Don’t call me Art,” Arthur replied. “Stay here while I get changed, then.”

He quickly headed to his room and grabbed a pair of dark jeans and a top. He changed quickly, slipping on a pair of tall boots and putting his wallet in his back pocket. He ran a hand through his hair once, trying to get the unruly strands to cooperate, before giving up and heading back to the foyer. Gilbert was sitting on the floor, playing with Sir Ignatius.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Arthur sighed.

Gilbert looked up, eyes wide when he took in Arthur’s appearance. He whistled lowly. “Whoa, nice,” he complimented.

“Can we just go?” Arthur groused, unused to the attention. It wasn’t bad, just rare; he was usually in his suit.

“Sure thing, babe,” Gilbert smirked, standing. Arthur rolled his eyes and glared when Gilbert smacked his ass on the way out. He shrugged. “What? Those pants make your butt look fantastic.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur grumbled, locking the door behind him. When he turned around, the sight of an old, rusty Volkswagon in his driveway greeted him. “Please don’t tell me this is your car.”

“Technically, it’s West’s,” Gilbert said, heading over to it and opening the driver’s door. “But he doesn’t trust me with the other one, so I use one of the old ones.”

“Perfect,” Arthur muttered, striding over and opening the passenger’s door. The inside was surprisingly clean, a little dusty, but in okay condition. Arthur sat down in the seat and closed the door. Gilbert followed suit and soon started the old car.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the curb across the street from a club. Arthur clutched the dashboard in front of him, knuckles white as he grit his teeth.

“We’re here!” Gilbert declared, taking out the key. He raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “What’s up with you?”

“You are a maniac,” Arthur gasped, finally able to breathe again. “How the bloody hell did you ever obtain a drivers license?”

Gilbert grinned. “I have my ways.”

“I don’t even want to know,” Arthur said, and quickly got out of the car. He made to go stand in the long line when Gilbert grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the bouncer in front.

“Gil!” the man cried with a smile. “Long time, no see!”

Gilbert nodded. “I know! Other stuff came up.”

The man noticed Arthur and raised an eyebrow at him. “Friend of yours?”

Gilbert nodded again. “Won’t be a problem, right?”

“For you?” the man laughed, undoing the barrier and motioning for the two to enter. “Never! Just make sure they know he’s with you.”

“Thanks, Ross!” Gilbert grinned, still pulling Arthur.

“Do I even want to know?” Arthur asked when they reached the hall.

“I know the owner.”

“Do you know the owner for every club and bar?” Arthur groused.

“Just about,” the pale man grinned. “C’mon.” He continued to lead Arthur through the building, past dance halls and private rooms until they got to the back. The music was louder, the lights brighter, the people more compact, the bar more crowded. Gilbert grinned at him. “I promise I won’t ‘ditch’ you this time, okay?”

“Good!” Arthur shouted over the noise. “One hour, then take me home!”

Gilbert smirked at him. “After the previous fail of last time, the time limit has been upped to two hours.”

Arthur glared at him. “No.”

“Yes.” Gilbert moved his grip from Arthur’s wrist to his hand and dragged him through the dancing people to the bar. The bartender immediately came over. “Gil!”

“Hey, Tino!” Gilbert greeted. “Give us two Time Bombs?”

“Of course!” the blond man laughed. He ran an appreciative eye over Arthur, who frowned. “Extra shot in each?”

“You got it!” Tino grinned and immediately got out two tumblers. He was too quick for Arthur to see what he added to the glasses before they were slid in front of the two men. “Enjoy!” Tino said. “I’ll be back soon!” He left to attend to another customer. Gilbert picked up both drinks and handed one to Arthur, who eyed it warily.

“It won’t bite,” he chuckled, taking a gulp.

“What exactly is it?” Arthur questioned, looking hesitantly at the blue drink in his hand.

“It’s a drink, Arthur!” Gilbert said. “Alcohol! Stop thinking so much and have a good time! That’s why we’re here!”

“I still have yet to have a good time,” Arthur reminded him. He took a small sip of the drink, pleasantly surprised that it didn’t taste as bad as it looked. He frowned at Gilbert’s knowing smirk. “Quiet, you.”

“Live a little!” Gilbert cried, clapping him on the shoulder. He drained his tumbler and set it on the counter. “Now come on, finish that drink, and let’s dance a little!”

“I don’t dance,” Arthur told him, watching the contents of his drink as he swirled it around.

“Now why don’t I believe that?” Gilbert smirked. Without waiting for Arthur’s reply, he grabbed the drink out of his hand and set it next to his own, grabbed his hand again, and pulled him into the crowd.

“Gilbert, no!” Arthur glared, struggling against the man’s hold. “I can’t dance!”

“It’s easy!” Gilbert said, turning around to face, letting go of his hand. “Just go with the beat!”

Gilbert began to move in a graceful motion, legs and arms flowing flawlessly. Arthur stood awkwardly in the center. 

“C’mon, Arthur!” Gilbert coaxed. He moved closer, grabbing his arms and wriggled them around like a wet noodle. “Loosen up!”

“I can’t,” Arthur bit out between clenched teeth, yanking his limbs from Gilbert’s grip. “Can we go back to the bar?”

“Not until you dance one dance!” Gilbert told him. He moved around behind him, pressing the length of his body against Arthur’s back and resting his hands on Arthur’s hips. The Brit tensed and jerked forward, but Gilbert’s grip was gentle and strong and held him in place.

“We can just grind for a bit,” he said, voice soft. Arthur heard him clearly even over the loud music, Gilbert’s hot breath on his ear. “It’s really easy, I promise. All you have to do is sway your hips side to side and lean your weight backwards.” Arthur gulped, following Gilbert’s directions. “Good, just like that,” Gilbert told him. “Now I’m gonna start moving with you. It might feel weird but don’t stop moving.”

“Wait!” Arthur called when he felt Gilbert’s weight shift. “What do I do with my arms?”

“Just put them below mine, on your upper leg, Right, good,” he said when Arthur’s shaking hands gripped his jeans. “All set?”

Arthur gulped and nodded, shifting his weight back and moving as instructed. He startled when he felt Gilbert begin to move, and he was overly conscious of his hands and the people around him. Most of them seemed to be doing the same thing he and Gilbert were doing, but it looked much more graceful. Some just looked erotic.

“Relax,” Gilbert told him, gently pulling him closer. “Don’t worry about the other people. Just focus on the music and the movement.”

Arthur took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eyes. Maybe if he didn’t see the other people, he wouldn’t feel as judged. He listened to the upbeat tempo of the music, letting the music wash over him. Gilbert, even though he was still practically still a stranger, felt solid and comforting behind him.

He was surprised when he suddenly felt Gilbert clear his throat and take half a step backwards. Arthur opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the other man.

“What’d I do wrong?” he asked, frowning.

“No, it’s not you,” Gilbert said, avoiding his eyes. “It’s just that grinding like that for a long time sometimes… it has adverse effects.”

Arthur’s eyes widened as they were drawn to Gilbert’s crotch, which seemed to have a large bulge in the front. His green eyes flicked back up to Gilbert’s face, which had a faint pink flush on it.

“How long have we been going at it?” Arthur asked, confused. “It can’t have been that long?”

Gilbert finally looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Arthur, it’s been almost an hour.”

Arthur gaped. “What?”

“We’ve been dancing for almost an hour,” Gilbert told him. Then he grinned softly. “See what happens when you relax?”

Arthur stared at him. Gilbert smiled at him, grabbed his hand again, and led him back over to the bar. Tino slid over two shots, which the two eagerly gulped down.

“Another?” Tino asked, already making up several more shots.

“Yes, please!” Gilbert said, grinning. He turned to Arthur, holding out the glass. “A toast!”

Arthur couldn’t help but grin. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, the atmosphere, or the infectious smile on Gilbert’s face. He bumped his glass against Gilbert’s and took a swing, smacking it on the counter.

Gilbert clapped him on the back, they both took another drink, and then Arthur took Gilbert’s hand this time, leading him back to the dance floor. Gilbert laughed as Arthur positioned himself in front of Gilbert just like earlier and began to grind into him.

“Feeling good?” Gilbert asked, placing his hands on Arthur’s hips again.

“Ask me in another hour,” Arthur told him.

Gilbert laughed.

* * *

 Three hours later, Gilbert pulled into Arthur’s driveway. It was a testament to how drunk Arthur was that he didn’t mind the drive home.

Gilbert put the car into park and got out, grinning as he helped Arthur out himself and supporting him to the door. Arthur laughed when he couldn’t get the key in. 

“Think you can make it from here?” Gilbert grinned when the door opened.

“I hope so!” Arthur laughed, spinning around on a heel to look at Gilbert.

The other man laughed as well. “I’ll call you tomorrow, make sure you’re okay.”

“You’re okay, Gilbert,” Arthur told him. “Not as big of a jerk as I thought.”

Gilbert frowned. “Thanks, I guess…”

“No, really,” Arthur went on, tongue loosened by the alcohol. “At Alfred’s party, I thought you were just some douche. But you’re not half bad.”

Gilbert stared at him, then smirked. “Does this mean you had fun?”

“Fuck yeah!” Arthur cried, twirling in a circle. “I might even go next week!”

Gilbert chuckled. “Well, looks like my mission is accomplished. You held up your end of the bargain, so I’ll leave you alone.”

“No!” Arthur exclaimed. “I mean, you can come to the club with me next weekend, too! I don’t know anyone and don’t want to go by myself!”

Gilbert stared at him, frowning. “Go to bed, Arthur,” he said quietly, lowering his gaze. “I’ll call you tomorrow to make sure you’re okay.”

Before Arthur could respond to that, Gilbert slunk out the front door. The sounds of the car starting reached Arthur’s ears and soon he was alone. He frowned.

“Tosspot,” he muttered, staggering to the bedroom. He was out the moment his head hit the pillow.

* * *

He was rudely awakened when his cell phone began to sing loudly. Arthur groaned, pain shooting through his skull as he fumbled clumsily with his pants, trying to locate the offending object. Without glancing at the caller, he answered the phone.

“’Lo?” he grumbled.

There was a chuckle on the other end. “Hangover that bad, huh?”

Arthur groaned again as Gilbert’s voice reached his ears. “You are horrible,” he said, closing his eyes.

“I’m not the one who kept drinking last night.”

“I still blame you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Not talking to you helps me sleep,” Arthur muttered. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait!” Gilbert cried, causing Arthur to wince at the shrill shout. He glared at the phone.

“What?” he snapped.

“Now that you’re mostly sober, I just have to ask… Did you at least have fun?” Gilbert’s voice sounded annoyingly hopeful.

“Yes, okay,” Arthur groused. “You win this nonexistent bet. Now go away, I’m trying to sleep.”

“My work here is done!” Gilbert told him.

“Goodbye, Gilbert,” Arthur snipped, shutting his phone and throwing it across the room.

Sleep sounded the best at the moment. A sleep that was Gilbert free.

* * *

It wasn’t until Wednesday that Arthur got the balls to text Gilbert. While it was true he did have fun, he was a little embarrassed over his actions. He could recall fuzzy details, and there was no way that he would have done half of them if he had been sober.

But he couldn’t deny that he _had_ had fun. And he had had fun with _Gilbert_ , a man he had just met, who was annoying and a little of a douche. But he was also a little sweet and understanding.

He wanted to have fun again. And he wanted to have fun again with Gilbert. There was something about the man that was different than when he was at Alfred’s party. It intrigued Arthur.

So, swallowing his pride and biting his lip, he sent off a text message to the number that Gilbert kept calling him from, hoping that it was Gilbert’s cell phone.

He was pleasantly surprised when the response to his “Club Fri night?” was “pick u up @ 9”.

Arthur grinned, slipped his phone back into his pocket, and got back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, I'm sorry!


	4. Live hard, love hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur overestimates his tolerance for alcohol and does some maybe regrettable things

_“Show you all your daemons and desires and dark sides_ _  
All of your colonies and continental divides”_

* * *

Over the course of the next two months, Arthur and Gilbert went to the club every weekend. The first few times, Gilbert would pick Arthur up and drive him home. But as Arthur got more comfortable and the people there began to recognize him, Arthur began to drive himself. Most of the time, he’d stay there all day Saturday to recover from the raging hangover he’d have. He’d dance with Gilbert, sometimes with other people, and he’d drink his weight in alcohol.

Sundays he’d come home, refill Sir Ignatius’ food dispenser, and try to pretend that the weekend never happened, only to do it all again the next weekend.

It was the thirteenth time at the club when things changed. He was exiting the bathroom when Gilbert was shoved into him. The pale man staggered and cursed-in German, Arthur was surprised to note. He caught the man, grip strong as he steadied him.

“Whoa,” Arthur said, raising his eyebrows. “What’re you doing?”

Gilbert glanced at him, eyes bleary. Arthur had never seen the man this drink. And there was no way he was faking like at Alfred’s party; his breath reeked of alcohol and his eyes were completely unfocused, his movements uncoordinated.

“’M havin’ a party time,” Gilbert slurred. “Wait, I mean’ good party… party…  drink time… good drink… party drink…”

“Good time?” Arthur supplied. 

“Yes!” Gilbert cried. 

Arthur frowned. “Alright, I think it’s time for you to sit down.”

“I th’nk s’time fer you to shut up,” Gilbert said, but allowed Arthur to lead him towards the bar. He plopped him on the stool and Tino came over.

“How’s he doing?” he asked Arthur.

“He’s a little drunk,” Arthur replied. He turned to the other blond, who gave Gilbert a glass of water. “What happened?”

Tino shrugged. “He came in already gone. Dunno what’s wrong, but I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“Tha’s ‘cause you suck,” Gilbert said.

The two blond men stared at him before Tino shrugged. “You want a drink, Arthur?”

“If I’m gonna be looking after this moron, I’m gonna need more than one,” the Brit sighed.

“Right.” Tino returned with a tray of shots, which Arthur gratefully accepted.

“No, you don’t get anymore,” Arthur said, smacking away Gilbert’s greedy hand. The man pouted, then grinned.

“Please?” he asked. 

“No.”

“Bet I c’n drink more shots th’n you,” Gilbert taunted, suddenly sitting up.

“Not gonna work,” Arthur responded, taking another shot. “You’re already way too drunk.”

“C’mon Arth,” Gilbert chided. “Juss one m’re.”

“No.”

“Juss one.”

“No.” 

Gilbert grumbled, sinking down on the counter. “Pussy,” he muttered.

Arthur’s eyes flashed.

“What’d you just call me?”

Gilbert smirked at him. “Pussy,” he repeated, clearer and louder.

Taking the last shot, Arthur wiped his mouth, getting up close and personal with Gilbert. So maybe he wasn’t one hundred percent sober, either, but after getting screamed at by his boss all day, he figured he was entitled.

“I’m not a pussy,” Arthur growled.

“Wanna put yer money where yer mouth is?” Gilbert asked, smirk lopsided.

Arthur stared at him, glaring, before he straightened and called Tino back over. The Finnish man looked hesitant, and Arthur wondered what the expression on his face looked like.

“Shots,” he declared. “Keep ‘em coming, Tino.” 

“Tha’s wha’ I’m talkin’ ‘bout!” Gilbert cried, grinning. “Firs’ one ta fall loses!”

“You’re on,” Arthur agreed. “Bottom’s up!”

He wasn’t sure how many they had, but somewhere around the twelfth shot, things got a little hazy for Arthur. The lights and sounds blurred together in a cacophony of colors and noise. None of the things he said during the time ever became clear. He was pretty sure that at one point, he and Gilbert ended up on the dance floor, moving sloppily with each other.

Arthur did, however, recall vaguely leaving with someone briefly. Then he was in one of the private rooms, the blurry outline of said person climbing on top of him. Everything felt slow and like someone had shoved cotton in his ears and places glasses over his eyes. The person was gentle, obviously experienced, and the only thing Arthur remembered was that it felt good.

Sticky and sweaty, the mystery person rolled off of him when they were finished. Combined with the alcohol and the physical exercise, Arthur slipped off to sleep. The last thing he remembered was a flash of moonlight on pale skin.

* * *

Arthur woke with a groan, his entire body aching. He honestly didn’t think he’d ever been this hung over before, and that included the night he and Neeraja ended things. 

He twisted around on the bed he was in-not his, he noted with a frown-and hesitantly opened an eye to look at the clock that sat on the nightstand next to him. He wasn’t quite able to make out the numbers, but he was fairly certain that it was sometime in the early afternoon, judging by the sun leaking in through the window at the top of the wall.

He was in a bed in one of the private rooms at the club, he realized. Apparently he had stayed the night, judging by the horrid wallpaper and the too big bed he was currently lying in. A good thing, considering the pieces of the night that he remembered. That, and Arthur was fairly certain that heading home in the state he had been in last night would have only ended in bad things.

With another groan, he sat up, clenching his head at the bout of nausea that overtook him; little men were drilling into his skull. He winced when he felt the dull ache in his lower muscles and shifted his weight, hissing at the pain in his ass.

He had had sex last night.

His abdomen was sticky with dried cum and he sighed, looking at the stiff sheets around him.

A lump covered in blankets shifted ever so slightly and Arthur jumped, not expecting the person he had slept with to still have been there. There was no indication of who the other person was, though he was one hundred percent sure they were male.

The person moved again, blankets moving with them, and Arthur blearily thought that maybe he should leave. It was obvious that this was a one-time thing, especially judging by how drunk he was. And based on the miserable moan from beside him, he was pretty sure that the other person had been drunk as well.

Arthur was not, however, prepared for the silver hair and tired red eyes that greeted him when the man sat up, blankets falling from his head slowly.

Gilbert and Arthur stared at each other for a long moment, their rattled minds trying to process this new information. The moment it sunk in for both of them, they both let out a surprised squeal simultaneously and jerked backwards. Arthur fell to the floor and landed painfully on his sore bottom. Now he had another pain to add.

Gilbert scrambled back against the bed’s headboard, eyes wide before he groaned and clutched at his head, scrunching his eyes closed.

“Ooooh,” he moaned. “What the fuck happened last night?”

“I should be asking you that question,” Arthur replied testily, finally realizing that he was naked. He desperately looked around for his clothes and found his boxers. Not exactly trusting his balance, he army crawled over to them and hastily pulled them on, ignoring the dried white substance on his stomach.

“No, really,” Gilbert complained, slipping down to the bed and lying back on his pillow. He stared at the ceiling, squinting at it. “I don’t even remember meeting up with you…”

“You were pretty hammered when I found you,” Arthur told him, reaching up to drag a blanket off the bed and curling up on the floor with it. “But that still doesn’t explain how we ended up in bed together.”

Gilbert let out another groan, reaching up to clutch at his head again. “At least we didn’t do anything.”

“Think again,” Arthur huffed, pulling the blanket over his head. Much better.

There was a pause from the bed before Gilbert’s choked off voice floated over to Arthur. “We… we had sex?”

“Unless there was another person involved, yes,” Arthur snapped. “I should know, I’m the one covered in semen and with the hurting ass.”

Gilbert moaned. “Oh, God. Arthur, I’m so, so sorry…”

“Whatever,” the blond huffed, closing his eyes. “Sleep now. My body hurts.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he heard Gilbert grumble. “Oh, Gott, my head.”

“Shut up,” Arthur told him hotly. “No talking.”

He was greeted with silence, and within minutes, was asleep once more.

* * *

 Arthur was, unfortunately, rudely awoken a second time to the sound of the door opening and Tino’s cheerful voice echoing through the room. 

“Are you two sober enough yet to get up?” he asked. “’Cause I’ve really got to clean the room before tonight.”

“And I’ve really got to kick your ass,” Gilbert’s irritated voice said.

“Why, what’d I do?”

“First, you let us drink an entire pool full of alcohol,” Arthur grumbled, shifting on the floor. At least his nausea had disappeared and his headache had lessened. He tried not think about how he desperately needed a shower.

“You were the ones who kept sneaking them,” Tino told him. “Even after I cut you off.”

“Ugh, I’m gonna sue you, Tino,” Gilbert said.

“For what?” Tino asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“For being too loud,” Gilbert groaned. “Seriously, what the fuck, man?”

“I’m not the one who had a drinking contest and then slept with a friend,” Tino corrected him. “Now, in all seriousness, I need the two of you to leave. We’ve got another round tonight and I need to sanitize the room.”

“I’ll sanitize you,” Gilbert muttered. 

“That doesn’t make any sense, wanker,” Arthur spoke up. He sat up, blinking at Tino until the man came into focus. Gilbert was still lying on the bed, pillow over his face.

Tino, realizing that Arthur was in better condition than Gilbert at the moment, jerked a thumb at the door. “Look, I’ll give you guys an hour to get up, get dressed, shower, whatever. But then I _really_ need you out of the room.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur dismissed, waving a hand in the air. “Got it. Just… give us a moment to actually move without wanting to smack our heads against a brick wall.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gilbert muttered. 

Tino sent the man a small glare. “I’m serious, Gilbert. I will have security throw you out. And I won’t hold off Ludwig when he decides to come get you himself.”

Gilbert shot up in bed, eyes wide as he sent a glare at Tino. He seemed to regret the movement, because his hands went to his head. Well, one did; the other went to his stomach.

“Don’t puke,” Tino warned, eyeing him. “Or else I’ll make you clean up too. You’re jizz is gonna be disgusting enough.”

Gilbert moaned as Tino left, drawing up his legs and setting his forehead on top of his knees. 

“I’m never drinking again,” he mumbled. 

“Somehow I don’t believe that,” Arthur scoffed, slowly standing, wincing at the pain in his backside. “Damn, you really went at it last night, huh?”

Gilbert clutched his legs closer. “I don’t remember,” he said miserably.

Rubbing the small of his back, Arthur sighed. He ran an eye over the room, searching for his clothes. His jeans were at the foot of the bed, his jacket discarded carelessly by the door next to Gilbert’s t-shirt. He could only find one of his socks, giving up when the other seemed to have simply vanished. At least both his shoes were there, which didn’t seem to be the case for poor Gilbert.

“I’m gonna take a shower really quick,” Arthur told him. He looked at the sickly man still in bed. “Want me to drive you home afterwards?”

“Sure,” Gilbert muttered.

With a last glance at him, Arthur entered the adjoining bathroom, grateful when the light didn’t seem to his head split open in pain. He turned on the shower, went to the bathroom, and stepped into the spray. The warmth enveloped him, the pressure not the greatest, but still enough to sooth his taunt muscles.

Arthur let out a small, pleased sigh, as the events from the night washed down the drain with the dirt and grime and other things on his body. There was no shampoo in the small shower, so he just used the small bottle of soap to rinse out his golden locks.

When he stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself, Arthur was still limping slightly from the pain in his ass. It wasn’t as bad as before, but apparently Gilbert was a rough partner, and he was going to be feeling sore for a few days.

Arthur really didn’t want to think about work come Monday. 

As he toweled off his hair, Arthur looked at himself in the mirror, frowning. His eyes were bloodshot, face pale, and there were red marks and hickeys all over his torso. He frowned, hoping that they faded by Monday.

He hadn’t had sex like that in months. In fact, he hadn’t had any type of sex in months, not since Neeraja. Arthur was surprised that he’d just fallen into bed with a man he barely knew. He knew it happened all the time, but that just wasn’t what Arthur was used to. He wanted relationships and meaning, not just careless sex.

And with Gilbert, of all people.

The other man was rash and loud and annoying and a pain in his ass; Arthur winced at the last thought, deciding to ignore the pun.

But another part of his mind also reminded him that Gilbert could be sweet and gentle at times, understand at others, and Arthur _did_ remember how drunk the other man had been when they’d run into each other the previous night.

Maybe Arthur had gone along with the drinking contest because he hadn’t wanted the other man to feel any worse than he obviously already did. 

Quickly slipping on the clothes he had found, he exited the bathroom. Gilbert was still in the same position he had been when Arthur had left. Arthur momentarily thought the other man had fallen asleep again, but then Gilbert unfolded himself when he heard Arthur step out. 

He didn’t look any better than Arthur did. His red eyes were barely recognizable from the small veins in his eyes, making his expression look positively evil. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every angle, and his pale chest was peppered with scratches that Arthur knew would match his fingernails.

“Bathroom’s yours,” he said softly, setting about searching for his other sock once more. 

Gilbert, still silent, slowly climbed out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, shutting the  door behind him softly.

Frowning at the uncharacteristic behavior, Arthur stared at the door for a moment before he heard running water. Still looking for his other sock, he did manage to find Gilbert’s other shoe hiding under the bed. He found his own shirt, pulling it on and then his leather jacket. Gilbert’s jeans were hanging off the bedpost. But no matter how hard he looked, Gilbert’s socks were nowhere to be found.

When Gilbert came out from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, Arthur shoved his clothes at him. The pale man looked marginally better already, and except for the furrow above his eyebrows, he didn’t look hungover at all.

“We’ve got twenty minutes before Tino comes back,” Arthur said. “Get dressed. I couldn’t find your underwear so you’ll just have to go without for a bit.”

“Who said I was wearing any to begin with?” Gilbert asked, giving Arthur a weak smirk.

Arthur rolled his eyes, not amused. “Just hurry up,” he said, turning around until he heard the door close again. He let out a sigh, patting down his pants to make sure his wallet and car keys were still there. They were, and a moment later, Gilbert came out of the bathroom again, fully clothed. 

“Did you drive last night?” Arthur asked him, slipping on his shoes.

Gilbert scrunched his face up, thinking. “I don’t think so?” he guessed then shrugged. “If I did, then the likelihood of the car getting here in one piece is not good.”

“True,” Arthur said, holding the door open. Gilbert brushed past him, smelling of the same soap Arthur had used with the underlying scent of sweat and alcohol from the night before still clinging to his clothes.

The two walked the length of the hall in silence, waving to Tino on their way out. Arthur directed Gilbert to his car, and the two climbed in. 

“Where do you live?” Arthur asked, turning to look at Gilbert.

Gilbert had a pair of sunglasses over his eyes as he slumped pathetically in the passenger side seat.

“About ten minutes from here,” he said. “Get on the main road and take that into the next county. I’ll direct you from there.” 

Nodding once, Arthur followed his instructions. The closer he got, the more Gilbert sat up, giving him directions through a large suburb until the houses began to space out. A large white house came into view with a huge garden and a fenced in backyard that was at least four acres.

“That’s it,” Gilbert told him, nodding towards it.

Arthur whistled. “Big house,” he said.

“It was our grandfather’s,” Gilbert explained. “When he moved in with our father, he gave it to me, but… well, West owns it now.”

Choosing to not comment on the topic, Arthur pulled up to the front door and put the car in park. The atmosphere instantly got awkward.

“So, uh….” Arthur coughed, eyes sliding away from Gilbert. 

“Thanks for the ride?” Gilbert supplied.

“Yeah…” Arthur told him. “Uh… see you next weekend?”

“I guess?” Gilbert replied, frowning.

“Uh… good…”

Silence. Why wasn’t Gilbert just getting out of the damn car?

 “So, uh… bye?” Gilbert tried. 

“Bye…” Arthur said.

But Gilbert still didn’t move. If he didn’t get out soon, Arthur was going to push him out. All this sitting was not helping the pain in his ass.

“Look, I, uh…” Gilbert said, and Arthur finally looked at him. “I, uh…” he broke off, letting the sentence hang.

Arthur’s patience was wearing thin. “Spit it out, man,” he grumbled.

Gilbert gave him a small smile that quickly formed into a frown. The front door to the house opened and an annoyed and angry-looking Ludwig appeared on the doorstep. Gilbert’s frown deepened before he turned back to Arthur.

“I just wanted to say sorry,” he said, surprising Arthur. “For… for apparently being too rough and for probably ruing your night and for whatever else I don’t remember doing last night.”

Looking him the eyes, Gilbert nodded, seemingly satisfied with his short speech before he opened the door and clambered out of the car, shutting the door behind him. He gave the hood of a car a pat and Arthur a small smile before he turned around and headed toward his brother.

Ludwig spoke to him as Gilbert entered the house. The tall blond followed, giving a small wave of thanks to Arthur before the door was closed. 

Wondering what in the world had just happened, Arthur shook his head gently, putting the car into gear and heading home.

His bed was calling his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naming these early chapters is difficult, why did I decide to do this
> 
> Also, i'm not going to explain in later chapters, but Gil and Ludwig had a really bad fight and that's why Gil was so drunk already.
> 
> And now you know.


	5. Forgetting what you already know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they're off...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, loves!
> 
> Short present for you all! I'll be posting the next one, much, MUCH longer, within the next few days. Just wanted to give you a little something!
> 
> Enjoy!

_“Let me uncover the silver in your dark hair_ _  
The weight of your bones”_

* * *

There was no word from Gilbert all week, so when Arthur went back to Tino’s club on Friday, he was relieved to see Gilbert already there. The pale man was dancing with a pretty brunette girl, and Arthur smiled when Gilbert caught his eye. The two met at the bar, where Tino eyed them warily before he poured them both a Time Bomb.

“You both look better than the last time I saw you,” the bartender grinned. “How’s that ass, Kirkland?”

“A lot better than your face will be if you keep it up,” Arthur replied pleasantly, making Gilbert snort in amusement.

Tino laughed. “I don’t want a repeat of last weekend, alright?” He raised an eyebrow at the two. “Ever again, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Gilbert said, draining his glass.

“Crystal,” Arthur agreed. He turned to Gilbert. “How mad was Ludwig after I dropped you off?”

Gilbert shrugged as Tino left to attend to another customer. “I’m here tonight, aren’t I?” he said.

Arthur smirked. “Does your brother know that?”

Gilbert waved a hand in the air. “What West doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he said dismissively. 

“Uh huh,” Arthur smirked. He frowned. “Look, about last weekend…” 

“Uh, yeah…” Gilbert replied, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Um…”

An awkward silence followed, and the two stared at their feet.

“Yeah, can we just please forget that that ever happened?” 

“Yes, please!” Arthur squeaked.

“Glad to know we sorted that out,” Gilbert laughed. “Now, don’t bring it up again. I know my awesome sex skills are hard to forget even drunk, so-”

“Oh, no!” Arthur protested, grinning slightly. “No, we’re not going there! Besides, they weren’t that awesome if I didn’t even know it was you when I woke up!”

“Arthur, I’m hurt!”

“Hurt, my ass,” Arthur muttered, taking a sip of his drink. 

Gilbert smirked. “How is that fine ass, by the way?”

“Not talking about it!” Arthur cried.

Gilbert snickered and, without further prompting, the two silently agreed to never talk about The Weekend That Never Was. Gilbert set his glass down before he grabbed Arthur’s hand and pulled him towards the dance floor. Arthur squawked and barely set his glass on the counter before his feet tumbled towards the crowd.

“We can still dance, though!” Gilbert said, already moving to the beat.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but easily fell into step with the other man.

The night passed in a flurry of lights and dancing and drinks and when he and Gilbert fell into bed, all teeth and hands and nails, both weren’t nearly as drunk as they pretended to be.

* * *

 It wasn’t until the seventh time they’d done it that Arthur said anything.

“I think we need to talk,” he said, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth and blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“’Bout what?” Gilbert muttered, turning over and throwing an arm over Arthur’s waist.

“Us,” Arthur replied.

“Yeah, what about us?”

“What exactly are we?” he asked, watching as Gilbert wrinkled his nose at the smoke.

“Well, unless I’ve been lied to,” he grumbled, his warm breath ghosting over Arthur’s side, “then we’re men. _Must_ you smoke?”

“I smoke when I’m stressed,” Arthur snapped, grey cloud flowing from his mouth as he blew out.

“I thought we got rid of stress?” Gilbert mumbled. Arthur was propped up against the headboard of his bed, Gilbert lying with his face nuzzled into Arthur’s hip. The two had actually made it home tonight, a first for them. Usually they just did it at the club, or, once, in Gilbert’s car as they tried to make it to Arthur’s house.

They didn’t make it.

Arthur rested a hand in Gilbert’s head, playing with the pale strands. “No, that relieved my stress just fine,” he chuckled. “But can we get back to the topic at hand?”

“Mmm, what’s that?” Gilbert hummed. Arthur’s skin vibrated from the sound and he suppressed the urge to shiver, skin still tingling and oversensitive from their previous activities. 

“Us,” Arthur sighed, waving the cigarette around, trying to encompass whatever they were in a single motion. “Whatever this thing between us is.”

“Based on the past few weeks, I _really_ don’t think I have to explain sex to you,” Gilbert murmured. “Can we stop talking and sleep?”

“No, this is important,” Arthur told him.

Gilbert sighed, breath grazing across Arthur’s skin again before he shifted away and fluffed a pillow meekly. He lay his head on it, opened an eye, and stared unnervingly at Arthur.

“Shoot,” he said. 

Arthur gave him a weak smile. “What exactly are we?” he repeated his earlier question. “I mean, we’re not really friends but we’re more than acquaintances and we have sex every weekend and I just don’t know what to call us.”

Gilbert stared at him, not blinking, silent. Arthur silently wondered if he had fallen asleep with his eye open before he spoke. 

“Does it matter?” he asked, frowning.

“It does to me…” Arthur said quietly, flicking his cigarette in the ashtray next to his bed.

“Well, do you _want_ a relationship?” Gilbert questioned. “Because I gotta be honest with ya’, I’m not really looking for one at the moment.”

Arthur shook his head. “No, I don’t…” his thoughts veered to Neeraja and he swallowed thickly. “I don’t want a relationship.”

“Glad we got that settled,” Gilbert yawned. “Sleep now?”

“No,” Arthur told him with a small smile. Gilbert groaned, closing his eye. “Not until we get this settled.”

“We go to a club, get drunk, have sex, and repeat it the next weekend,” Gilbert sighed. “What’s so difficult to understand about that?”

“It’s not difficult at all,” Arthur groused.

“Then why are we even having this conversation?” Gilbert grumbled. “Arthur, I’m tired.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Arthur chided. “It’s just… I’m not sure people actually do this.”

“I assure you they do,” Gilbert told him, “albeit with less talking.” His eyes were still closed.

Arthur jerked slightly. “What do they call it?”

“Call what?”

“Whatever it is that we’re doing that other people do?”

“Too many words, Arthur.”

“Gilbert.”

“A booty call,” Gilbert sighed. “They call it a booty call. How you don’t know this, I have no idea.”

Arthur stared at him. “Booty call?”

“It’s where two people call each other for sex and nothing else. They’re not always friends, mostly just acquaintances. When one wants sex, they call the other, and happy endings for everyone.”

The blond thought about it. “But we only have sex on the weekends after the club.”

“Same difference,” Gilbert dismissed.

“So… we’re each other’s… booty call?” he clarified.

“Sure,” Gilbert said. “Whatever. Can we please sleep now?”

Arthur was silent for a moment, thinking. “So… if we’re…. booty call buddies…”

“Let’s not call it that ever again,” Gilbert groaned.

Arthur continued as if Gilbert had never spoken. “Does that mean we have to have sex during the week as well as just on the weekend?”

“Booty calls have sex whenever they want it,” Gilbert told him.

“So… during the week as well?” Arthur repeated.

“Do you _want_ sex during the week?” Gilbert asked.

Arthur shrugged. “Do you?”

“I want to sleep,” Gilbert groused. “Let’s do that.”

“Answer the question, first,” Arthur smirked.

“Sure, whatever, I want sex during the week,” Gilbert agreed. “Just ring me up and I’ll rush right over. Now, sleep.”

“Okay, but can we still do it on the weekends?” Arthur questioned. “’Cause I gotta say, I still like going to the club. Coming home with you is just icing on the cake.”

“I am sweet like that,” Gilbert smirked slightly. “Fine, we’ll bang during the week and bang after the club. Happy?”

“Almost,” Arthur said, grinning at Gilbert’s miserable moan. “We need to set some ground rules.”

“Fine, whatever, can we do that in the morning?”

“No.”

Gilbert groaned again, pulling out his pillow and placing it over his place. Arthur chuckled, leaning over and gently taking it off. Gilbert glared at him tiredly.

“Just a bit longer,” he promised.

“I do not understand your need for this immediate discussion,” Gilbert told him.

“It’s organization and punctuality,” Arthur told him. “It helps me sort through my thoughts before I forget them.”

“Ugh,” Gilbert said. “Fine, tell me the rules.”

“Well, I think the first one is that if we hook up during the week, I should be the one to top.”

Gilbert stared at him. “Why?”

“I have a desk job,” Arthur explained. “Do you know how uncomfortable sitting down on a wooden chair is when your ass is sore? Besides, you don’t have a job, so you can just sleep off the pain.”

“You’re a jerk with a point,” Gilbert replied. “Fine. But weekends are my turn.”

“Agreed,” Arthur nodded. “Rule two: we don’t tell anyone.”

“Besides the people who already know, you mean?”

“Tino and the people at the club don’t care or count,” Arthur said. “I’m talking about our friends and family.”

“Mums the word, got it.”

“Rule three should be that we do it at my house,” Arthur said. Gilbert looked at him. “When convenient!” he amended. When Gilbert still didn’t say anything, Arthur sighed. “I live alone, so it’ll be easier for us than trying to explain things to your brother.” 

“You have a cat,” Gilbert said. “I hardly think that not telling him of our intentions is humane.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his face. “I assure that he doesn’t mind.”

Gilbert shrugged, turning onto his hide. “I’ve got one,” he said. “Rule four is that the two of us get keys to the other’s house.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s easier to just let yourself in than waiting for the other person to answer the door, especially when you've got a raging boner,” Gilbert explained.

“I’ll have to think about that one,” Arthur muttered. Gilbert sent him a look, which he smiled at. “Alright, alright. I’ll give you a key to my house. But if anything turns up missing or broken, you’re the first person I’m going to.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gilbert dismissed.

“Alright, one more for tonight,” Arthur conceded.

“Thank, Gott,” Gilbert said. “Let’s get on with it, I want sleep.”

“No kissing,” Arthur said.

“Like… at all?” Gilbert asked.

“Like, on the lips,” Arthur confirmed. “No… no kissing on the lips or… or anywhere else.” He purposely shoved unwanted thoughts from his mind.

Gilbert stared at him. “What about sucking, like hickeys? Is licking allowed?”

“Yeah, those are fine,” Arthur allowed. “So long as they aren’t in visible places when we’re wearing clothes.”

“Can I ask why this rule?” Gilbert asked.

Arthur sucked in a breath. “I’d rather you not,” he whispered.

Gilbert looked at him for a long while, and Arthur was sure that he was going to ask anyways, but the pale man shrugged.

“Sure, no kissing, whatever.”

Arthur let out a relieved sigh, putting out the remnants of his cigarette and sliding down to lay on the bed.

“Thanks, Gilbert,” he said softly.

“Whatever,” was the response. Gilbert snatched his pillow back, placing it under his head once more. He scooted closer to Arthur, turning on his side, and threw an arm over Arthur’s waist once more.

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked, amused at the spontaneous cuddling.

“Sleeping,” Gilbert muttered. “We are done with rules.”

“What if I say no?” Arthur asked.

“Then the whole deal is off.” 

“Stop talking and go to sleep, Gil.”

“I’ve been trying for the past thirty minutes.”

“You agreed to this.”

“I will blackmail your cat.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“So’s your face.”

“Stop talking, Gil.”

“Great idea. Can we make that a rule? No talking after sex? ‘Cause that should be a rule.”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Arthur was met with silence. When he glanced at the other man, Gilbert was already sleeping. Arthur smiled and closed his eyes, feeling marginally better about the entire affair.

Maybe he’d make pancakes in the morning, as a sort of celebratory thing.


	6. The comfort of a stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of superstitions and breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, long chapter!
> 
> Also, for future reference, my headcanon name for Holy Rome is Caesar. Scotland's is Scotty (don't judge me), Ireland's is Ian, and Wales' is Owen.
> 
> Now you know.

_“I want to witness the beauty of your repair_  
 _The shape you’ve grown_  
 _For you are made of nebulas and novas and night sky_  
 _You’re made of memories you bury or live by”_

* * *

It takes them three weeks to get used to the arrangement, during which they meet only twice during the week. By the time the third Friday comes along, Arthur is itching to let off some steam, and it’s with eagerness that he steps onto the dance floor with Gilbert.

The taller man was dressed in skintight black jeans with a deep purple button up shirt, one that made his eyes really pop. The fabric was clinging to him with sweat, and Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off. It made him self-conscious of the simple white t-shirt with his leather jacket.

The two took their normal position, Gilbert pressed up against Arthur’s back as the two moved their hips in synch with each other, side to side. Over the months, Arthur had gotten quite adept at dancing, if he did say so himself. At least, Gilbert never complained, and the other people he danced with seemed to have a good time, too.

Lights flashed and people bumped into them, but Arthur and Gilbert moved with the grace of those who only saw each other. Arthur reached up an arm, draping it around the back of Gilbert’s neck. The pale man got impossibly closer, arms snaking around to hug Arthur’s hips.

They moved in tandem with one another, separated by nothing but clothing. They’d only been there for two hours, but the friction and the alcohol and the atmosphere was too much to handle. Arthur had clear intentions when he craned his neck to the side and Gilbert, ever receptive, snaked out his tongue, licking the shell of Arthur’s ear briefly before giving it a small nip.

The groan Arthur let out was drowned by the bass from the speakers, but it was like a foghorn to Gilbert. In a move that surprised Arthur, Gilbert jerked his hips upward, the blond feeling something other than Gilbert’s keys rub against his ass.

Arthur whipped around, staying close to Gilbert, as he copied the movement, now face to face. Gilbert’s eyes widened at the feeling, face tinted pink with a blush. He reached around to grope Arthur’s backside; Arthur let out a small hiss as the continued to move.

A tap on Arthur’s shoulder startled him and he whipped around, startled. Gilbert’s arms dropped.

Tino was standing before them, arms crossed and a frown on his face. He jerked a thumb at the door.

“Alright, you two, time to leave,” he shouted above the noise.

It was Arthur’s turn to frown. “Why?” 

“You kickin’ us out?” Gilbert added, scowl on his face.

“Yes,” Tino replied simply.

Arthur stared at him, blinking.

“What the fuck, Tino?” Gilbert growled.

“It’s nothing personal, I promise,” Tino said. “But you really need to leave.”

“Why?” Arthur asked, frowning. “We’ve been here for months, Gilbert longer. Why the sudden cold treatment?”

Motioning for them to follow, Tino headed towards the door, where a large bouncer was standing with their jackets. Tino led them to the back door, leading out into the parking lot. The cool air mixed with their hot bodies, making them all shiver.

“You two are making other people uncomfortable,” Tino explained as he held the door open.

“What?” Arthur asked.

“Uncomfortable how?” Gilbert questioned.

“When you two are practically having sex on the dance floor, it tends to throw other people off." 

Gilbert and Arthur blinked at Tino, who raised an eyebrow at them.

“Like I said, nothing personal,” Tino went on. “I’ve overlooked it for weeks, even let you use the private rooms. But you haven’t been paying for them, and I can’t have you defiling the common areas when other people are clearly watching.”

“Maybe some people get turned on by it,” Gilbert smirked.

Tino rolled his eyes. “Just get out of here,” he said. “You’re welcome back next weekend, so long as you keep it clean.”

“There’s nothing clean about grinding,” Arthur told him as they walked past.

“Then keep it PG-13,” Tino told them. “What you do when you’re not here, I don’t care. Just keep your little arrangement to yourselves, alright?”

Gilbert gave him a small salute as he followed Arthur. “Sure thing, bossman.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tino replied. He wished them a safe ride home, then shut the door behind him.

Gilbert jammed his hands into his pockets and lengthened his stride to walk next to Arthur as they headed to the blondes car.

“So, my place?” he asked, blowing out a breath and watching it form a cloud in front of him.

“Ludwig home?” Arthur asked, unlocking his car. Gilbert climbed into the passenger side.

“Nah, he’s got some study thing at Feli’s house,” Gilbert said as Arthur started the car and pulled into the street. “He’ll be gone all weekend.”

“Your place it is, then,” Arthur said. “I think this is the first time we’ve gone to your place.”

“It’s awesome,” Gilbert told him, grinning, putting his feet up on the dashboard.

“You think everything is awesome. Feet down, please,” Arthur scolded lightly. Gilbert scowled, but planted his feet on the floor of the car, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That’s because everything I do is awesome,” Gilbert muttered. Arthur, distracted by changing lanes, didn’t see the devious smirk that suddenly graced Gilbert’s face.

So it was with a jerk that nearly drove them off the road that Arthur swore, grabbing Gilbert’s hand and shoving it away from his crotch. He glared at the other man.

“What the fuck was that?” he snapped.

“Just thought we’d get the party started a little earlier,” Gilbert smirked, licking his lips.

“No,” Arthur said. “You will wait until we get to your house.”

“You didn’t wait that one time,” Gilbert argued.

“You were driving, not me.”

“So the tables are turned when you’re the one receiving?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Wow, rude much.”

“No, just sensible.”

“I fail to see how this is sensible.”

“That’s because you’re a moron.”

“A hot moron.”

“Your obsession with yourself is a huge turnoff.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that myself is a huge turn on for you.”

“You’re ego is inflated.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s inflated.”

“…You did _not_ say that.”

“Oh, I think I did…”

“We’re here!” Arthur exclaimed, gulping as he parked the car in front of Gilbert’s front door, trying to get the way Gilbert purred out of his head. The smirk the other man gave him proved that he was not as successful as he wanted to be.

“Come on,” Gilbert said, getting out of the car and striding up to the darkened door. He easily let himself inside, and Arthur followed quickly.

When the door closed behind them, Arthur shoved his keys into his jacket, threw the garment on the floor, toed off his shoes, and stepped close to Gilbert. He grabbed a handful of the startled man’s shirt and pulled him down, lips next to his ear.

“ _Now_ we can continue what you started in the car,” he whispered, grabbing Gilbert’s crotch.

The man jumped and hissed, backing away slightly.

“I’m all for that, but there’s something I need to do first,” he said.

“What?” Arthur asked, lowering his eyelids and backing Gilbert to the wall. “You said Ludwig was out all weekend.”

“Ja, he is, but-” Gilbert was cut off when a large body slammed into Arthur, knocking him down. A wet, cold _something_ licked all the way down Arthur’s face, something holding him to the floor.

“Berlitz, down!” he heard Gilbert yell. “Bad dog! Aster, sit! Blackie, heel!”

The scraping of claws on wooden floor didn’t cease, and it was a moment before the body above him was pulled off. When Arthur sat up, wiping his face with a scowl, he saw Gilbert holding a large Golden Retriever by the collar, its tail wagging. Two other dogs were jumping around the tall man.

“Sorry,” Gilbert apologized with a small smile. “They get a little excited when they meet new people.”

“You have three dogs,” Arthur deadpanned.

“Technically, they’re West’s,” Gilbert explained, frowning when the dog in his hand gave a powerful tug. “Berlitz, no! Sit!”

“You didn’t tell me you had dogs,” Arthur said, standing. The other two took a step forward, but Gilbert barked out an order in German, and the two sat. He gave Arthur a puzzled look.

“Do you not like dogs?” he asked.

“No, it’s not that,” Arthur said, frowning. “It’s just usually dogs don’t like me.”

“Yeah, well, these three aren’t the smartest in the doggie kingdom,” Gilbert groused. “Berlitz, sit! I don’t want to tell you again!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had dogs?” Arthur whined. “That’s something that’s sort of important. What if I was allergic?”

“Are you allergic?” Gilbert asked, frowning.

“No, but you still should have told me!”

“You didn’t give me a chance!” Gilbert exclaimed. His loud voice made the dogs bark, tails wagging.

Arthur blushed, looking away. Gilbert chuckled.

“Let me just put these guys away real quick and then we can finish what we started,” he said, dragging the excited yellow dog down the hall, the other two following happily, yipping at his heels.

“Berlitz, kommen! Blackie, Aster, sich legen!”

Arthur was left standing awkwardly in the foyer, frowning. He sighed, leaning against the door as he waited for Gilbert to return.

So far, this night was not turning out well. At this rate, it’d be a miracle if they made to Gilbert’s bed intact.

The Brit was surprised when Gilbert returned shortly. He frowned at Arthur. “You okay?”

Arthur ran a hand over his face before jamming his hands into his pockets. “Maybe I should go…” he muttered.

“What, why?” Gilbert asked, eyes wide.

“Because I think this is a bad idea,” Arthur said. “I mean, we’ve been trying all night, and it just doesn’t seem to be happening. It just seems like a sign that we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Arthur let out a squeak when Gilbert suddenly crowded him against the door, hands on either side of his head. His eyes were narrowed, face morphed into one of absolute lust.

“We’re doing this,” he growled, sending shivers through Arthur. “I’ve been waiting all night for this, so we’re doing it.”

“But all the signs-” Arthur tried, getting cut off and letting out a moan when Gilbert’s mouth latched onto his neck and sucked, hand groping his crotch at the same time.

“Are you superstitious, Arthur?” he whispered, licking at the recent mark, soothing it.

“N-no,” Arthur stuttered, internally cursing himself for it.

“Hmm,” Gilbert hummed against Arthur’s neck, nipping at the skin again. The vibrations traveled down his body and into Gilbert’s hand. He felt Gilbert’s smirk against his neck.

“Oh, shut up, you wanker,” Arthur snapped, eyes rolling back as Gilbert’s grip shifted. He moaned again.

“I’ll show you a wanker,” Gilbert chuckled.

Arthur opened his eyes to glare at him. “You wouldn’t know what to do with one.”

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

The blond smirked this time. “I don’t know, you tell me." 

“Oh, that’s it’s Kirkland. My bed, now.”

Arthur grinned. “About time you grew a pair.” He shrieked when Gilbert hefted him up and bodily carried him down the steps to the basement. It was dark, and the taller man didn’t turn on any lights before he gently threw Arthur on the bed and crawled on top of him, hand sliding up his chest under his shirt, mouth attacking Arthur’s neck.

“You devious little shit,” Arthur groaned. “You planned this.”

Gilbert hummed again, and Arthur couldn’t bring himself to care under the man’s careful administrations.

* * *

“So are you really superstitious?” Gilbert asked sleepily, running a hand up and down Arthur’s arm.

“Are you going to make fun of me if I say yes?” the blond mumbled from where his face was buried in Gilbert’s chest.

“No?”

“Liar,” Arthur muttered, smiling.

“I’m serious, you really believe in all that bullshit?”

“Must you be so vulgar?”

“You seemed to like it thirty minutes ago.”

“Shut up.”

Gilbert chuckled.

Comfortable silence enveloped them, Gilbert’s hand stilling.

“Gil?”

“Hmmm?” was the sleepy reply.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“’M just resting my eyes.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Hmmm.”

Arthur laughed. “Have you always fallen asleep so quickly after sex?”

“It’s a very physical activity,” Gilbert sighed. He turned over to face Arthur. “But I suppose you want to talk.”

“Yes,” Arthur grinned.

“Fine, but I have a most important question,” Gilbert sighed. “How superstitious are you?”

Arthur frowned. “On second thought, sleep sounds lovely.”

“Oh, no, you’re not getting out of this one,” Gilbert said, smirk half hidden by the pillow.

Arthur sighed. “Really, I’d rather just sleep.”

“You interrupted sleep wanting to talk,” Gilbert said. “So now we’re gonna talk. This is your fault.”

“I’ll just wait it out for another five minutes,” Arthur smirked. “You’ll be out like a light.”

“I will not.”

“Want to test that theory?”

“Tell me about black cats and spilling salt.”

Arthur bit his lip. “Really, I’d rather not.”

“Do I need to pound it out of you?”

“You can barely move. You know, for the one who topped tonight, you’re strangely exhausted.”

“Shut up. Stop changing the subject.”

“Just go to sleep, Gilbert.”

“I was originally _trying_ to, but you wanted to talk. So talk.”

“Can we talk about something else then?”

“No.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“So’re you.”

“How am I the jerk here?”

Gilbert gave him a small glare. He turned onto his back and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, sighing. “Alright,” he said. “If I tell you something personal, will you tell me about this superstitious shit?”

Arthur stared at him. No one had ever used that before; usually they just waited it out or pulled it out of him. Apparently, there was more to Gilbert than just his rough, douchey exterior. But then again, maybe Arthur already knew that, based on his gentle hands and his small smiles.

“I dunno…” Arthur muttered. “I mean, if you’re not comfortable with it then-”

“You’re the one making this uncomfortable,” Gilbert mumbled.

Arthur bit his lip again.

Gilbert cursed softly. “Oh, mein Gott,” he said. “Fine. When I was twelve, my older brother and my mother died in a car crash. I had to go to therapy for it for years because I couldn’t get over it.”

Arthur was silent, frowning, for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gilbert muttered, eyes closed tight.

“What were there names?” he asked softly.

Gilbert gave a small jerk, eyes flying open. He turned his head to stare with wide eyes at Arthur.

“What?” Arthur asked, a little shocked by the reaction.

“No one’s ever asked that before…” he said, frowning.

Arthur frowned back. “Why?”

Gilbert shrugged. “I dunno.”

Silence covered them. 

“Caesar,” Gilbert whispered. “And my mother’s name was Maria.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur repeated, unsure of what else to say.

Gilbert was quiet, glaring at the ceiling. Arthur watched him for a long while, internally struggling with himself. On the one hand, he really, _really_ didn’t want to tell the other man about his… past situation. It was a dark time in his life and just another reason to bring up Neeraja, something that he still didn’t want to think about.

But on the other hand, Gilbert had just shared a personal and, from the looks of it, painful memory of his childhood. Arthur could relate, having his own family baggage to deal with.

Before he could change his mind, Arthur spoke.

“About a year ago,” he said, watching as Gilbert turned his head to face him. “I admitted myself to a hospital because I kept seeing… hallucinations.”

Gilbert stared at him.

“I was… going through a rough time,” Arthur paused, not quite wanting to revisit that part of the story. “And I wasn’t in my right mind. I was convinced that I had a unicorn living in my backyard, and Captain Hook and Tinkerbell were living in my spare room.”

“The characters from Peter Pan?” Gilbert asked with a frown.

Arthur nodded. “Yeah. And there was… there was Flying Mint Bunny.”

“Say what?”

“This little… bunny rabbit with wings. He was a mint green color and followed me around, talking to me.”

Gilbert stared. Arthur was beginning to get unnerved, beginning to regret his decision to tell the other man.

“How long were you in the hospital?” Gilbert asked, surprising Arthur. That’s not normally the first thing most people when he told them. Then again, Arthur thought, Gilbert wasn’t “most people”.

“Seven months,” he replied.

“And do you still see them?” Gilbert questioned.

Arthur shrugged. “Not all the time. Usually just… just when I’m feeling…”

“Got it,” Gilbert interrupted, making Arthur relieved that he didn’t have to go into more detail. “So you’re superstitious because you’ve got little men and creatures running around in your head and the only way they make sense is if you believe in something that everyone else believes in too. Well, most people… some people…”

Arthur stared at him.

“No one’s ever gotten it that quickly before,” he whispered, eyes wide.

Gilbert shrugged. “I’m awesome like that.”

“And there goes the moment,” Arthur sighed, grinning. Trust Gilbert to not make things more awkward than they already were.

“We were having a moment?” Gilbert smirked. “Missed that memo.”

“Obviously,” Arthur laughed.

“Sleep now?” Gilbert asked.

“Yes, yes, you big oaf,” Arthur sighed. “We can sleep now.”

“Thank Gott,” was the tired reply as Gilbert turned over, back to Arthur.

The blond smiled softly, scooting over to press his chest to Gilbert’s back. He leaned up slightly to whisper in the man’s ear. “Thanks, Gilbert.”

“No more talking,” Gilbert said, dismissing it. “Sleep.”

Arthur smiled. Maybe, just maybe, this thing he had with Gilbert was just the thing he needed.

* * *

Arthur awoke to a pain in his forehead.

Which was weird, because he was sure that he hadn’t had _that_ much to drink the night before. He remembered everything last night, and, nope, not enough alcohol to render a hangover. Not even a headache. And Gilbert hadn’t been that rough last night, so his body wasn’t sore; well, his ass was, but that was to be expected. Gilbert was, to use his own word, awesome in bed.

Not that Arthur would ever tell him that. Not to his face, at least.

A sharp jolt pained his temple and his eyes flew open. He swatted at his head, trying to get rid of the offending _whatever_ , his hand coming into contact with nothing but air.

Frowning, he sat up, rubbing above his eyebrows at the same time. He yawned, turning his head. Gilbert was turned away from him, curled into a ball and hogging the covers. Arthur smirked, reaching a hand over to roughly pull the sheets off and wake the slumbering man. His hand got halfway there when a shot of yellow flew at his face.

Squawking, Arthur feebly tried to fend off whatever was attacking him, spitting out something soft that somehow landed in his mouth.

“Ack!” he cried, arms flailing in every direction. “What the-”

No matter what he did, the little yellow thing just seemed to evade his swats. That is, until Gilbert seemed to awaken.

“Arthur, no!” came his strangled shout.

Suddenly, the yellow blur was gone. Arthur scrubbed at his face, trying to dispel whatever the creature had left on it. When he opened his eyes, his eyes fell on the enemy, which was perched innocently on Gilbert’s outstretched finger. He glared at it.

“What the bloody hell is that?” he cried.

“Hey, don’t yell!” Gilbert exclaimed, glaring at the man. “Gilbird doesn’t like loud noises.”

“Gilbird?” Arthur scowled. “You have a bird. And not only do you have a bird, but you named the bird after yourself.”

Gilbert frowned at him. “So?”

“ _So_ ,” Arthur hissed, watching the little creature puff up and _mock_ him, “that _thing_ nearly clawed off my face!”

“He probably just thought your eyebrows were worms or something,” Gilbert dismissed, raising his other hand to gently pet the small bird.

“I wasn’t even awake yet!”

“He doesn’t like strangers,” Gilbert said, smiling softly as the little bird gave a soft chirp. “He’s pretty protective.”

“He’s a bird,” Arthur deadpanned.

Gilbert glared at him. “You have a cat, I have a bird. What’s the difference?”

“Birds are evil,” Arthur snapped. The thing was looking at with little black beady eyes. It was unnerving. “Besides, you already have three dogs.”

“They’re West’s,” Gilbert defended, then blanched. “Shit, the dogs!”

Arthur started as Gilbert threw off the covers and scrambled out of bed. Surprisingly, he set the small bird gently in a huge cage decorated with toys and hanging things before he pulled on a pair of boxers. 

“I forgot to let them out last night!” he cried. He called down to Arthur as he tripped up the steps. “I’ll be right back! Feel free to get breakfast or something!” His voice faded as he reached the ground floor. Arthur heard him running, a door opening, and the sound of claws on wooden flooring, barking, and something falling; Gilbert, from the sound of it.

The commotion lasted a few moments before the sound of a door opening and closing and then silence signaled their departure. Arthur shook his head, rolling his eyes with an amused smile on his face.

With the daylight seeping in through the windows at the top of the walls, Arthur was finally able to see Gilbert’s basement dwellings. The queen-sized bed he was sitting in was in the middle, headboard against the wall. On either side were nightstands, a lamp on only one side. A picture frame holding a photo of Gilbert and Ludwig, who was dressed in his graduation robes, sat under it, along with a pair of red glasses.

The room itself was spacious, holding a dresser, a hutch cluttered with knick-knacks, a beanbag chair in front of a TV, which sat on a huge entertainment system. A game console and controller were visible under a pile of games.

And directly across from Arthur, watching him and, the blond swore, _glaring_ at him, sat the little fluffy demon.

Arthur glared back.

“Listen here, you little chicken nugget,” he growled. “I will not tolerate being turned into a pecking pole.”

The bird didn’t move, just continued to stare at him.

“I will be treated with respect,” he continued, mentally thinking that he was crazy for talking to a bird.

The demon ruffled its feathers.

“Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” Arthur said, changing tactics. “Wing. Claw. Whatever it is you have.”

The bird glared at him. 

“Stop staring at me!” Arthur snapped.

The small puffball ruffled its feathers again and hopped forward. It was then that Arthur realized Gilbert had left the cage door open.

With speed he didn’t know he possessed (and a squeal that he forever deny), the Brit jumped out of the bed, pulled on his underwear, and took the steps two at a time. He could hear the tiny demon fluttering and chirping behind him as he reached the door, slamming it shut before it could follow him out.

Arthur slumped against the door. He’d take his chances with the dogs.

* * *

 Sir Ignatius was laughing at him.

Arthur couldn’t blame the cat as he pulled the fire extinguisher away from the oven, black smoke making him cough. So much for that cooking excursion; the cat was sitting in the doorway to the kitchen, tail flicking back and forth and watching him. Arthur swore there was an amused smile on his face.

“Bollocks,” he sighed, using a towel to grab the tray of burnt biscuits from the oven. He set it on the counter, glaring at it. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what went wrong; he had followed the directions on the package perfectly.

“Do I even want to know what you attempted to make?”

Arthur spun around, turning his glare to the half-naked man that walked into the kitchen. He pointed his spatula at him. “Quiet, you.”

Gilbert smirked at him, sliding behind him to peer at the tray. He whistled. “Whoa, Arthur, these things look like hockey pucks.”

“They’re supposed to be scones,” Arthur muttered, flinging the spatula into the sink. “Would you at least put on a shirt, please?”

Gilbert ignored his request and gingerly poked at the burnt scones. “Dude, these things are as _hard_ as hockey pucks.”

“Yes, thank you for the commentary,” Arthur grumbled, elbowing Gilbert in the ribs. “Shirt. Now.”

Gilbert pouted at him. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“You are such a child,” he said.

Gilbert made a face. “Pervert,” he responded.

“I am not,” Arthur growled, shifting his feet as his cat wound around his legs. “Sir Ignatius, out of the kitchen.”

“Don’t be mean to Iggy,” Gilbert frowned, bending down and scooping up the feline. Instant purring erupted from the animal as he cuddled up to the pale man.

Arthur glared at them. “His name is Sir Ignatius, and I still cannot understand why he likes you so much.”

“Hey, I’m a very loveable guy,” Gilbert smirked.

“Uh huh,” Arthur said, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re the one who can’t get along with my bird.”

“Hey, that bird is evil!”

“He’s a sweetie.”

“He tried to peck my eyes out!”

“I told you, he just mistook your eyebrows.”

“I’ll mistake you,” Arthur muttered.

Gilbert grinned, turning on his heel, cat still purring in his arms. “Come on, Iggy. Let’s get dressed, then make a proper breakfast since your owner is useless in the kitchen.”

“I heard that!” Arthur called after them as they disappeared around the corner.

“You were supposed to!” was Gilbert’s reply.

Arthur scowled, turning back to the tray of ruined food and sighing once more. He tipped the disgrace into the garbage can, leaning back against the counter when he was done, staring at his oven. It was covered in white foam, which would be a bitch to clean up.

He just couldn’t understand how he was so bad at cooking. His freezer was full of microwavable dinners because every time he tried to home cook a meal, it turned out either on fire or undercooked. He even managed to burn _water_.

Trying to remember how he even lasted this far without keeling over from a heart attack, Arthur had to stop himself. Images of Neeraja popped up in his head and he pushed them away before they could go any further.

“Alright, let’s get this party started.”

Sometimes Arthur was glad that Gilbert existed.

The man strolled in, pajama pants and a t-shirt on, cat following closely on his heels.

“Please, grace me with your wisdom,” Arthur smirked.

“A magician never reveals his secrets!” Gilbert cried, heading over to the cabinet where Arthur kept his bowls. He set two on the counter, took out two spoons, and crossed the kitchen to the fridge, pulling out the milk. Then, spinning around gracefully and grinning at Arthur, he pulled out a box of cereal and poured it into the bowls, added the milk, and stuck a spoon in each.

“Viola!” he cried, throwing up his hands. “Eet. Ees. Done!” He let out a maniacal laugh.

“Cereal?” Arthur asked, taking the bowl Gilbert offered him with a raised brow.

“We can always eat the rocks you oh, so kindly prepared for us,” Gilbert replied, taking a bite.

“Point taken,” Arthur sighed, taking his own bite.

“Like, really, Arthur,” Gilbert went on. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you anything?”

Arthur shrugged. “My mother left when I was one,” he said.

Gilbert stopped chewing, eyes wide. Arthur took great amusement when the other man almost choked when he tried to swallow.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “Sorry, I… I didn’t know…”

Arthur remembered what Gilbert had told him about his own mother a few weeks ago. He felt a little guilty and gave Gilbert a small, reassuring smile.

“It’s okay,” he laughed. He grinned at the man’s doubtful look. “No, really, it is. I didn’t know her that well. I only had pictures to go by. My brother’s basically raised me.”

“Brothers?” Gilbert perked up a bit. “Wait, what about your father?”

At that, Arthur did look down, swirling around his cereal. “He… wasn’t around much,” he muttered. “And… when he was…”

Awkward silence enveloped them.

“So tell me about your brothers,” Gilbert said, a little too loudly.

Arthur scowled, but not because of the topic change.

Well, a little because of the topic change. “My brothers are morons,” he said.

“Whoa there!” Gilbert grinned. He set his empty dish in the sink and hopped up on the counter, looking down at an irritated Arthur. “How many do you have?”

“Three,” Arthur huffed, smacking Gilbert on the knee to get him down. It was pointless. “And they’re all stupid.” 

Gilbert laughed. “Older or younger?”

“Older.” 

“Names?”

“Scotty, Owen, and Ian.”

“And why are they stupid?”

“Because they’re stupid,” Arthur groused.

Gilbert laughed again. “They sound just like older brothers.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t exactly get along,” Arthur told him. “In fact, I haven’t spoken to any of them since I graduated high school.”

Gilbert gave him a puzzled look. “Why not?”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. “They may have raised me, but that doesn’t mean they were nice about it. Well, Owen was. He’s not half bad. But the other two, especially Scotty, are horrid. They were always torturing me for one reason or another.”

“That’s what older brothers do,” Gilbert smirked,

“Not like this,” Arthur sighed. “They locked me out of the house in the middle of a storm in winter. I got pneumonia and then scolded me for staying outside when it was their bloody fault in the first place.”

Gilbert shrugged. “You won’t get any sympathy from me. I’m older than West.”

“Yeah,” Arthur grumbled. “By the way, why do you call him that?”

“Call who what?”

“Ludwig ‘West’?” Arthur asked.

Gilbert shrugged. “When Caesar was alive, he used to call me East. It started when he got sent to boarding school out west and would write letters to me. It was like a code. When Luddy went to stay abroad for a year in high school and we emailed back and forth, I called him West. He… he doesn’t know about Caesar, but he calls me East sometimes, too, so…”

Arthur was quiet. Sir Ignatius hopped up on the counter next to Gilbert, purring. Arthur picked him up, petting him softly. Gilbert shifted slightly, biting his lip. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Speaking of West,” he said. “I should get going. I told him I was going out last night, but I didn’t tell him where. He gets angry when I don’t answer my phone.”

Arthur nodded. “Right. I’ll walk you out.”

The pale man jumped off the counter and headed upstairs. “Lemme grab my stuff real quick. And brush my teeth. I hate morning breath.”

“Whatever you say, your Highness,” Arthur smirked, following him.

“Damn straight,” Gilbert grinned. When they reached Arthur’s bedroom, the blond let the cat down, watching as Gilbert pulled on his clothes from the previous night. They hadn’t gone to the club last night; Gilbert had just come over and they’d been too preoccupied with other activities to go anywhere.

“So West’s got this meeting slash study thing out of town for the week, so I’ll be home alone,” Gilbert was saying as he pulled on his shirt. “So if we want to have some fun this week, we should do it at my house.”

Arthur frowned. “I dunno…” he said.

“Why not?” Gilbert asked, pulling on his socks. “My house is closer to your office anyways. Just bring a change of clothes and stuff and you can leave right from there.”

“What if Ludwig comes home early?” Arthur questioned, trying to weasel his way out of it. 

“He won’t,” Gilbert replied, heading to the adjoining bathroom to brush his teeth with the extra toothbrush Arthur had. “He’s a stickler for schedules. He likes everything planned out to a tee. Kinda like you, actually.”

Arthur bristled. “I just like it better here. What if your neighbors get suspicious?”

Gilbert looked at him through the mirror. He spat his mouthful into the sink. “I can pick you up and drive you if you want, then.”

“I’d rather live, thank you very much.”

Gilbert suddenly smirked at him, wiping his mouth off. “You don’t _want_ to come to my house.”

Arthur scowled, but remained silent.

“This is about Gilbird!” Gilbert cried. 

“The bird has got it out for me!” Arthur defended himself. “He’s an evil demon who’s just waiting for me to sleep so he can peck my eyes out!”

Gilbert cackled. “He’s just protective. He’ll warm up to you.”

“Doubt it,” Arthur muttered, once more following the man as they headed downstairs to the front door. Gilbert slipped on his shoes and fished his keys out of his pocket.

He gave Arthur a smirk as the man held open the door for him. “My house,” he said. “I won’t have it any other way.”

“We’ll see,” Arthur frowned. 

Gilbert grinned and headed out. Arthur made sure he got out of his driveway okay before he shut the door, locking it behind him. Sir Ignatius was sitting before him, tail flicking as he watched him.

Arthur sighed. “Oh, Sir Ignatius,” he said. “What have I gotten myself into?”

Once more, the cat seemed to laugh at him.


	7. A song unsung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur worries, has some fun, and worries some more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to post this yesterday, but forgot.

_“So if you’re out there in the cold_   
_I’ll cover you in moonlight_   
_If you’re a stranger to your soul_   
_I’ll bring you to your birthright_   
_I want the storm inside you awoken now”_

* * *

Arthur sighed as he walked into the restaurant, spying Francis immediately. The other blond waved him over enthusiastically, and Arthur hurried over, scowl on his face.

“Calm down,” he said as he took his seat. “You’re making a scene.”

“Oh, get the stick out of your ass,” Francis laughed.

“Hey, I only agreed to meet you here because of business,” Arthur snapped. “So can we just get this over with so I can go home? I’ve had a long day.”

He really just wanted to get home and call Gilbert. He  _had_  had a long day and needed to relieve some stress that couldn’t be smoked out. 

“Oh, this is much more than a business meeting,” Francis smirked.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”

“Antonio! Over here!” Francis cried, calling the attention of the other people around them. Arthur tried to sink into the chair.

“Amigos!” was the Spaniard’s loud reply.

Arthur hated his life.

Francis stood, hugging his old friend and laughing excitedly at something the brunet said.

“Yes, yes, all good, sit down, shut up, and eat so we can talk,” Arthur snapped.

“Not just yet!” Francis said, smirking once more. “We still have a two more guests to arrive!”

“Of course,” Arthur grumbled, mentally restraining himself from smacking his forehead. He had  _known_  that agreeing to this meeting was a dumb idea. But for whatever reason, he  _had_  agreed, and now he just wanted to go home.

“So!” Antonio said as he sat down. “What have you been up to since Alred’s fiesta? You left before any of us really catch up!”

“Oui, you went for drinks and never came back,” Francis agreed, swirling around his wine. 

“I wanted to go home,” Arthur grumbled. “I found Alfred, talked with him for a bit, and then left.”

Francis got an evil glint in his eye. “Ohn hon hon,” he chuckled. “Did you leave with someone?”

Arthur glared at him. “No, I did not,” he snipped. “Now we either discuss business or I’m leaving.”

“Oh, but they should be here soon,” Antonio exclaimed. “Just wait a bit longer, amigo.”

“I am not your friend,” Arthur told him.

“Oh, but I think you are,” Francis purred, exchanging a knowing look with Antonio.

“What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Sorry we’re late,” came a familiar voice. Arthur froze before he stiffly turned his head to look at Ludwig.

 _Please don’t have Gilbert with him, please don’t have Gilbert with him_.

“Gilbert insisted on stopping at the pet store for some new bird toy,” Ludwig said, taking off his scarf and coat, setting them on the back of an empty chair.

“Gilbird needed a new one,” came another, overly familiar voice.

Arthur thought that maybe he’d be able to make a break for it. That was before Gilbert noticed him and stopped short, eyes growing wide.

“Arthur, you remember Ludwig, right?” Francis said as the large blond sat down. “And his brother Gilbert.” 

Arthur swallowed, silently and instantly agreed with the look on Gilbert’s face. “Uh, yes. Yes, hello, nice to see you again.”

“From Alfred’s party a few months ago, right?” Ludwig asked, scanning over the menu briefly. “Bruder, sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Gilbert snapped, and Arthur noticed the sudden tenseness of his shoulders. But he did sit down next to his brother, directly across from Arthur.

“Uh, can we just get on with this?” Arthur stammered, scowling. “I have things to do, you know.”

Francis’ smirk didn’t go unnoticed. Neither did Gilbert’s amused jerk.

“Bruder, you okay?” Ludwig asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Just a moment,” Antonio said. “Let’s order first.”

“Beer!” Gilbert cried.

“Whoa, hold on, bruder,” Ludwig said. “Calm down. Behave, please.”

“I do what I want,” Gilbert sniffed.

“Oh, mon ami, we know,” Francis chuckled.

Arthur wanted to disappear into his chair. Gilbert sent the Frenchman a glare.

“I already ordered us a round of beers,” Francis said. “Normally Antonio and I don’t drink the wretched stuff, but the flavor of the beer here is actually quite divine.”

“Good,” Gilbert told him, scowling in his overstuffed coat. He fiddled with the plastic bag in his hands.

“I have a feeling we’re going to need it,” Arthur murmured to himself.

He was right, of course. Two hours later, Antonio was telling awful jokes while Francis laughed too loudly. Ludwig looked stiff, but smiled politely. Gilbert wasn’t as drunk as he made out to be, Arthur knew, and was over reacting to everything everyone said, much to his brother’s dismay.

Arthur just wanted the ground to swallow him up whole.

Their food had come and gone, as well as several trays of beer. At least they had already discussed business. The only thing that was keeping Arthur seated was the knowing looks Antonio and Francis were giving him.

That, and the nervous kicks that Gilbert kept giving him under the table. His shins were going to be bruised if he didn’t get out there soon.

At least it looked like Ludwig was blissfully unaware of the situation. Arthur envied him.

“Ah, mon ami, you’ve still got the touch,” Francis chuckled, taking a sip of his beverage.

“Gracias, amigo,” Antonio grinned. He turned his attention to Ludwig. “How’s Feli doing with the wedding plans? Lovino said that he was more stressed than usual.”

Ludwig groaned. “He’s over-reacting. He nearly burst into tears the other day when the wedding planner told him that the pasta he wanted at dinner was out of our price range.”

Francis laughed. 

“Little brat is over dramatic anyways,” Gilbert muttered, gulping down another bottle of beer.

“Bruder, please,” Ludwig snapped. “We’re having a nice conversation.”

“Be nice, amigo,” Antonio chided gently. “That’s Ludwig’s fiancé.”

Gilbert glared at them both.

“When is the big date?” Francis asked. “Have you two decided yet?”

“Ja, November 11,” Ludwig said, a small smile on his face. “That way, we’ll both be twenty one and it’ll be easier for everyone.”

“Very exciting!” Antonio exclaimed. “Have you decided on a best man, yet?”

“I already asked Kiku the other day,” the younger man replied. “He said yes.”

“Mon ami, that is all very exciting!” Francis cried.

Arthur didn’t miss Gilbert’s scowl to cover up his fallen face. The pale man grit his teeth, taking another huge gulp of beer. He met Arthur’s eyes across the table and grimaced slightly.

Wiping his mouth on his napkin, Arthur cleared his throat to get everyone else’s attention. He was getting a little nervous with where the conversation was heading anyways, and he wanted to spare Gilbert more agony than he was already apparently in.

Once the others were looking at him, Arthur set his napkin on the table and stood up. “I hate to be rude, but I really must get going. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow at work and I’d like to get to bed at a decent hour.

Antonio’s disappointed frown didn’t affect Arthur. He studiously ignored Francis’ seemingly ever present smirk.

“Of course,” Ludwig said. At least the man was sensible. “Feli will wonder where we are, anyways, so I think we should be heading back as well.”

“Thank Gott,” Gilbert muttered.

“It was nice to see you again,” Arthur said as way of departure.

“West, wait, I have to pee,” Gilbert said, standing after his brother. 

“Bruder, can’t you wait until we get home?” Ludwig asked as Francis called over their waiter for the check.

“Nein,” Gilbert replied, already walking off. He gave Arthur an inconspicuous glance as he passed.

“That’s actually a good idea,” Arthur said, heading after the man. “I’ve got a long drive back home.” He briefly wondered if it was a good idea leaving Ludwig alone with Francis and Antonio, but at the look that Gilbert gave him, he hurried off after him.

“Everything alright?” he asked once they reached the quiet bathroom.

Gilbert was leaning over a sink, glaring into the mirror. “No,” he said.

Arthur was silent. 

“I didn’t know that you’d be here,” Gilbert told him after a moment. “West just said that Francis and Antonio wanted to discuss something with the two of us. I didn’t really question it.”

“I didn’t know, either,” Arthur said.

The two met each others eyes in the mirror.

“They know,” Arthur sighed.

Gilbert’s head dropped and he nodded once. “Ja…” 

“You tell them?” he asked.

Gilbert snapped his head up and glared at Arthur. “No. No, I did not. Just because those two act stupid, doesn’t mean they  _are_  stupid.”

Arthur knew that all too well. Francis had graduated in the top ten of their class, and Antonio had figured out how to make all their plants grow in the middle of winter better than in the summer. He still didn’t know how that had happened.

The blond ran a hand through his hair.

“Do you think they’ll tell Ludwig?” he asked.

Gilbert shook his head. “Nein. They’ll just play us for a while, make sure we know they know. They’ll use it to their advantage when they want something.”

Arthur sighed. “What do you think we should do?”

Gilbert shrugged. “There’s nothing we  _can_  do. Just… just let it go. Those two idiots will collect when they want, and there’s nothing we can do or say that’s gonna convince them otherwise.”

Arthur watched him through the mirror.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asked the pale man, worrying slightly over his reaction. “You seemed pretty upset about Ludwig’s choice for best man.”

Gilbert snarled at his reflection. “Oh, you know, just because I put the little fucker through college and housed him and, oh, I don’t know,  _introduced_  the two love birds, and all I get is a freaking seat in the front row of their fucking wedding? Ja, I’m not bitter at all.”

Arthur winced. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“Not your fault,” Gilbert sighed.

Arthur was silent for a moment. “Can I ask you a question?” he said.

“Asking that’s never stopped you before,” Gilbert replied, raising an eyebrow.

Arthur gave him a small smile and shrugged. “Why do you act so differently around your brother and your friends?” he questioned. “I mean, when you’re with me, you seem… less tense, more lively. You don’t use fake smiles and pretend that you’re drunk.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened for a moment before he narrowed them. He didn’t respond, but sent a wary glare at Arthur, standing up straight. “I should go though, or West’ll come in here looking. And then Francis and Antonio will get horrible ideas.”

Arthur didn’t miss the obvious avoidance of his question, but he decided to let it go. There was more than Gilbert telling him, and Arthur desperately wanted to ask him about it, to understand why Gilbert was so different around other people, but he let it go. Gilbert would tell him in his own time. Instead, he nodded in agreement, but grabbed Gilbert’s elbow as he walked past him.

“You can still come over later,” he told him, eyes softening.

Gilbert froze, then sighed. He gently shook free of Arthur’s grip and gave him a small smile. “Ja, but I think I’ll just hang out at home tonight. Thanks, though.”

“Anytime,” Arthur called softly after him. 

Gilbert staggered out the door, cheesy, fake smile on his face. And while Arthur watched him leave, saddened by the fact that this man had to supposedly put on a show around his friends and family, he was also strangely comforted by the fact that Gilbert trusted him enough to act normally around him.

* * *

Arthur was typing up a new report for his boss when his phone gave a short buzz. He rolled his eyes; the only person who would text him during the work day was Gilbert.

Sure enough, when he flipped out his phone and opened the message, he saw Gilbert’s name flashing at him.

 

 **From:**  Gilbert

**Wednesday, 3:13 PM**

_wat time do u get home 2nite?_

 

Cringing at the horrible grammar and text speak, Arthur quickly typed out his own reply.

 

 **From:**  Arthur

**Wednesday, 3:14 PM**

_I have to go to the grocery store after work, so probably not until sevenish._

 

Arthur set his phone aside, trying to finish his report. Gilbert’s response was only a few moments.

 

 **From:**  Gilbert

**Wednesday, 3:16 PM**

_4get groceries. Need 2 see u._

The blond frowned, saving his project before he turned his full attention to his phone.

 

 **From:**  Arthur

**Wednesday, 3:16 PM**

_You okay?_

 

 **From:**  Gilbert

**Wednesday, 3:19 PM**

_fine._

 

 **From:**  Arthur

**Wednesday, 3:21 PM**

_What happened?_

**From:**  Gilbert

**Wednesday, 3:23 PM**

_dont want 2 talk. want 2 fuck. Wat time b home?_

Frown deepening and worry beginning to creep up his spine, Arthur hurriedly sent out his response.

 **From:**  Arthur

**Wednesday, 3:24 PM**

_I’ll be home by 5:30, don’t do anything stupid._

He didn’t receive a text back.

* * *

Gilbert’s car was already in his driveway when Arthur pulled up. He sighed a little in relief that the moron wasn’t dead, grabbed his briefcase, and hurried inside He was barely in the door when he was shoved against it, Gilbert’s hot mouth attacking his throat.

Arthur swatted at him. “Get off me, you tosspot,” he growled. “Let me at least take off my shoes.”

“You’re late,” Gilbert muttered against his skin, giving it a small lick. He moved away enough to allow the blond to move freely, while still sucking at his skin.

Arthur tried to ignore him, toeing off his shoes and setting his briefcase down. “First of all, care to tell me why you’re so worked up?”

“Not really,” Gilbert purred, tugging Arthur’s suit jacket off and throwing it on the ground. Sir Ignatius immediately jumped on it, burrowing into it.

Arthur groaned, but not because of Gilbert’s administrations. “That was just dry cleaned. Now it’s going to have cat hair all over it.”

“Will you stop talking?” Gilbert growled.

“Will you stop being a pest?” Arthur snapped, getting annoyed at the other man’s persistence.

“Fuck you,” Gilbert returned heatedly.

“If you would get away from me for five minutes, I will!” Arthur exclaimed.

With a frustrated huff, Gilbert stepped backwards for a moment. Arthur led him to the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He shut the door behind Gilbert, who pulled him on top of the bed on top of him, wrapping his long legs around Arthur’s waist. Arthur let out a surprised squawk as Gilbert immediately latched his lips onto his collarbone. It was only then that he noticed Gilbert was already half undressed, wearing nothing but his boxers.

“Do you want to top tonight?” Arthur asked, hands of either side of Gilbert’s head.

“I don’t really care,” Gilbert replied. “Fuck me, fuck you, as long as there is some form of sex tonight, I really couldn’t give a fuck. As long as there is a fuck.”

Arthur frowned, still worried about the man below him. But then Gilbert’s wandering hands found a sensitive spot, and all thoughts of other things went out of his mind. The two fell asleep next to each other as always, covers tangled around their feet.

But when Arthur awoke a few hours later to Sir Ignatius purring in his face, he was surprised, and not a little worried, to find that Gilbert was gone, clothes, car, and all.

* * *

On Friday, two days later and still not a single word or response from Gilbert, Arthur was shocked to find the man’s car already in his driveway when he got home from work. He cautiously made his way into his house, shutting the door softly behind him. His kitchen light was on, and there was a savory smell around him.

“Gilbert?” he called softly, heading towards the noise he heard.

When he rounded the corner, he stopped. Gilbert had dishes of food sitting on the table. His sink was a disaster and there was flour all over the counter. Sir Ignatius sat just outside the doorway, watching curiously.

“What’re you doing?” Arthur asked, curious, worried, frustrated, and a little angry all at the same time.

Gilbert’s head snapped up, red eyes wide at his sudden presence. He gave a sheepish smile to the blond, who crossed his arms.

“Wurst?” Gilbert offered, holding up a pan holding said cuisine.

Arthur stared at him, eyebrow raised.

Gilbert sighed, setting down the pan. “Look, I feel bad about the other night, so I thought I’d make you dinner as an apology.”

“Apology for what?” Arthur asked. “The way I see it, we’re booty calls. That is the way booty calls are supposed to work. Booty calls don’t include cooking dinner for sleeping with the other person.”

“I know,” Gilbert sighed, leaning against the counter. “But I wasn’t really polite about it and I’m sorry. I… I was having… a really tough day and I just… and then the whole thing with dinner at the beginning of the week…”

Arthur frowned, waving a hand in the air to dismiss it. “Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

Gilbert bit his lip, looking uncertain. 

“It’s okay,” Arthur laughed, reassuring the other man. “So what’re you making?”

That seemed to work, because Gilbert offered him a smile. “Well, I made wurst, spargel, Kartoffelpüree, with [Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schwarzw%C3%A4lder_Kirschtorte) for desert.” He pointed to each dish as he named it. The wurst. mashed potatoes, and Black Forest Cake Arthur was able to pick out easily enough. But the other thing looked like asparagus covered in cheese or some form of yellow liquid substance.

“All German, of course,” Arthur said.

“Duh,” Gilbert replied. He gestured for Arthur to sit down, quickly loaded up a plate, and set it down in front of Arthur. “Enjoy!” he crowed happily, making up his own plate and joining the blond.

“You are going to clean all this up, right?” Arthur asked.

Gilbert waved a hand in the air. “Ja, ja,” he said. “Let’s just eat, alright?”

Arthur laughed, tentatively taking a forkful of the meal on his plate and trying it. He was surprised when it wasn’t as bad as he had thought it was.

“Hey, this isn’t half bad,” he told Gilbert.

“Of course it isn’t,” was the man’s reply. “I didn’t burn or undercook it.”

“Hardee har har.”

“Besides, I felt bad about all those frozen dinners I made you miss, so naturally I had to remedy that.”

“How did you even pay for all these ingredients? I know they were expensive and that you do not, in fact, have a job.”

“What West doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“You took his spare money from the top of the fridge, didn’t you.”

“He really should find a better hiding place.”

Arthur laughed, taking a swig from his beer bottle (swiped from his outdoor fridge, he noticed), and grinned at Gilbert. “So, would you care to tell me how in the world you prevented my cat from entering into this mess? Because I have a hard enough time keeping him out of the kitchen, let alone getting into everything.”

Gilbert chuckled. “You just have to know how to talk to him.”

“Oh, so you can understand my cat now?”

“Just call me the cat whisperer.”

“Yeah, no.”

Arthur lost track time as the two ate, simply sitting and drinking beer long after the food on their plates was finished. He wasn’t sure what time they were done, or how long they spent washing the dishes. Time got away even further after fighting with the soap bubbles, and Arthur wasn’t paying attention when the two fell into his bed, clothes soaked through.

But whatever had gotten Gilbert worked up seemed to be gone now, and Arthur was glad. He’d even, dare he admit it, had fun tonight.

And no. It was not a date.

* * *

“I ran into an ex on Wednesday,” Gilbert told him softly later, face buried in a pillow and an arm over Arthur’s waist.

The blonde was sitting up in bed, his single light on, cat next to him and book in hand. He turned his head towards Gilbert.

“Sorry?” he said.

Gilbert refused to pick his head up. “I was out walking the dogs when I ran into an old… ex-friend of mine.”

“And how, exactly, does one become ‘ex-friends’ with Gilbert Beilschmidt?” Arthur teased.

“Beat me within an inch of my life.”

Arthur jerked slightly, eyes going wide. He slid his bookmark into book and shut it softly, turning his full attention onto the pale man besides him.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I… I didn’t know.”

Gilbert’s shoulders shrugged. “How would you? Only West, Francis, and Antonio know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly.

Gilbert was silent. For a while. Arthur was sure that the man was just going to ignore him, blow him off, when his quiet voice reached Arthur’s ears.

“It was right after… after I hit a rough spell,” Gilbert said. “I was at my lowest point, and Ivan just sort of… strolled into my life. We’d gone to high school together, so we already knew each other. It started off good enough, but… when I wanted to leave… he… got angry. I put up with it for a while, but then got sick of the way he treated me, so I just…. Grabbed all my shit one night and left.”

“And he didn’t like that,” Arthur guessed, frowning.

“Bingo, we have a winner,” Gilbert mumbled. “He told me that if he couldn’t have me, no one could. I woke up in the hospital with a broken jaw, a fractured leg, bruises, and a concussion the following night. Francis and Antonio found me when I didn’t show up for our lunch date.”

Arthur remained silent.

“I haven’t seen him in years. And then when I was at the store on Wednesday, I ran into him. It… it didn’t go well…”

Arthur sucked in a breath. “He didn’t…” he trailed off his sentence, letting it hang in the air.

Gilbert shook his head, face still hidden. “No, but he did… say some things.”

Arthur paused. “Do you want to tell me?”

Another shake of the head. “Not particularly. Just know they weren’t very nice…”

The blond nodded, hesitantly putting a comforting hand on Gilbert’s bare shoulder. The man stiffened at the contact, then relaxed when Arthur gently began to massage the tense muscles.

“Sorry,” Arthur murmured, shifting to straddle Gilbert, using both of his hands to work out the kinks in the man’s back. Gilbert groaned underneath him.

“Not your fault,” Gilbert sighed, finally turning his head out of the pillow. He opened a bleary eye to watch Arthur. “But I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Arthur told him sincerely.

“No, it’s not. I… I used you for sex when I was feeling down and then just left. That’s not… that’s not how we do things. I just… I was messed up and in a bad place and I’m sorry, Arthur.”

Arthur gave him a small smile, one hand squeezing the juncture of Gilbert’s neck and shoulder’s comfortingly. “Really, it’s okay. You made me a great dinner and then we had great sex. I think you’ve more than made up for something you shouldn’t have to apologize for in the first place.”

Gilbert’s eyes were beginning to droop. “Thanks, Arthur,” he said softly.

Arthur gave him a reassuring smile, letting his hands continue their soothing motions. Within minutes, Gilbert’s eyes closed completely, his breathing evened out, and Arthur climbed off him. He shifted his cat around, crawled under the covers, and turned off the light, lying to face Gilbert. He reached forward to brush a few strands off the man’s pale forehead before he stopped himself.

He shook his head once, frowning at his actions, before he turned over and closed his own eyes.

He might be getting in over his head…

* * *

“Do you think we’re doing this wrong?” Arthur asked a few days later, rolling over to face Gilbert.

The pale man cracked open an eye.

“What makes you think that?” he replied, shutting the eye as he let out a tired sigh.

“Well, I just don’t think that other people who are…” Arthur paused, not quite comfortable with the term to say it out loud. “Who do the same thing we are actually  _do_  the same we do.”

Gilbert groaned as he shifted, and Arthur felt a wave of sympathy course through him; maybe he had been a little too rough this time.

“I’m not sure I follow,” he said softly. “But if you’re referring to talking after sex, then I’d have to say that yes, you are, in fact, doing this wrong.”

The blond lightly smacked Gilbert on the arm. “I’m serious,” he said.

“So am I,” Gilbert moaned as he shifted again to face Arthur, head turned to the side as he lay on his stomach. He sighed as he opened both eyes to look at Arthur. “Seriously, what problem do you have with not talking after sexy times?”

“Sexy times?” Arthur grinned.

“Oh, my God,” Gilbert gripped. “Alright, alright! If I listen to what you have to say, will you  _please_  shut up?”

Arthur smirked. “That depends on whether or not the answer is satisfactory.”

Gilbert let out a sound that could either be a groan or a sob or a laugh; Arthur wasn’t quite sure which it was.

“Fine,” he said, closing his eyes. “If you must, go on.”

“I must,” Arthur declared. “And I go back to my original question of whether or not we’re doing this right.”

“Well, the sex seems to be okay, so I’m gonna assume yes,” Gilbert replied.

“I’m being serious,” Arthur said, frowning. “Do… do other… booty calls… cuddle and talk after having sex?”

“I don’t cuddle,” Gilbert groused. “And you’re the one doing all the talking.”

“It just doesn’t seem like something we should be doing,” Arthur went on, ignoring Gilbert’s complaints. “I mean, it seems more… intimate that way, and this is just… I mean, it’s not even casual sex. It’s like prostitution, but without exchanging money.”

Gilbert opened his eyes, expression unreadable. “Do you want money?”

Arthur stared at him, eyes locked on his red ones. “No,” he said. “But I don’t think we should go on calling this thing between us a booty call.”

“Well then, what do you expect us to call it?”

“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s much more than a simple booty call.”

“What exactly do you think a booty call is?” Gilbert asked, scrutinizing Arthur.

“I know what a booty call is!” Arthur groused. “I’m just saying that a normal booty call doesn’t have a toothbrush in the other’s bathroom, or stay over for entire weekends!”

“I don’t like morning breath,” Gilbert said. “And my brother’s house is closer to your work, anyways.”

“We’ve got clothes at each other’s places of living,” Arthur continued.

“Well, in my experience, going outside naked is generally a bad idea, not just for you, but for society as well.”

“I know where everything is in your house.”

“And I know how you like your tea.”

“I took your brother’s dogs for walks.”

“I took your cat to the vet.” 

“I’m just saying,” Arthur snipped. “These are not normal things that booty calls do. Booty calls come over, have sex, and leave before the morning happens. There is no cuddling, not as much talking, and definitely no staying over for more than one night.”

“I don’t cuddle,” Gilbert muttered, turning his face into the pillow.

“So I just don’t think that we should be calling this a booty call,” Arthur finished, once more ignoring the other man.

“So then call it something else!” Gilbert replied testily. “I don’t really care.”

Arthur was silent for a moment, unsure if he should continue with his train of thought. After all, the two weren’t that close, so the phrase he had in his mind just didn’t feel right.

But if he didn’t speak up now, then he might never know. And if there was thing that Arthur wanted to change, it was to stop thinking so much and go more with what his gut was telling him.

Sometimes Gilbert was a good influence. Though he’d never say that to the man, because his ego was already too big to begin with.

“I was thinking something along the lines of Friends with Benefits.” 

There was no response from Gilbert, and Arthur worried that he had overstepped the boundaries.

“So we’re friends now?” was the final, muffled response.

“Are we?” Arthur asked quietly, worrying his bottom lip.

Gilbert turned his head to look at Arthur. His face was partly hidden from the pillow, and his expression difficult to decipher.

“As long as you continue to provide the beer,” he said. “Otherwise, our friendship is over.”

Arthur grinned, a weight lifted off his chest. He wriggled until he was closer to the other man, throwing an arm over him.

“Glad we got that settled,” Gilbert sighed. “Can we please go to sleep now? You really did a number on me. I’m never this rough when I top.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier,” Arthur smirked.

“Yes, well, I am now,” Gilbert said. “I mean, damn, Arthur, my entire body aches.”

“Stop complaining,” Arthur laughed.

“Stop being a jerk,” Gilbert shot back without heat. “I won’t make you breakfast in the morning.”

“You’re cooking sucks,” Arthur teased him.

“It’s better than yours.”

“Touche.”

“Can we sleep now that you’re mini crisis is over?”

“Sure thing, Your Highness.”

“Thanks so much, Princess.”

“Shut up and go to sleep, Gilbert.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do since before you started this entire fiasco.”

“Well, now’s your chance.”

“At last.”

There was silence for a few minutes in which Arthur smiled, watching Gilbert’s breath slow. Before he drifted off to sleep, Gilbert threw an arm over Arthur, bringing him closer.

“I don’t cuddle,” he mumbled sleepily, before drifting off completely.

Arthur’s smile widened.

“Whatever you say, Gil.”

Gilbert smiled softly in his slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in canon, Prussia adores Italy, but I'm rejecting that reality and substituting my own. Francis and Antonio will collect on that threat later, too.
> 
> Too lazy to put what Gilbo cooks, so just look it up yourself if you're curious.
> 
> (I also hate this chapter. The beginning is too rushed and the rest is choppy but IDK what to DO so just go with it for now)


	8. A thousand confessions you cannot find

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pillow talk frustrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter and the most frustrating chapter to write. So I hope you enjoy all the topics they talk about.

_“Some nights we open up the flood_   
_And some nights we are lost_   
_And some nights we’re choking on the words_   
_But some we light on fire”_

* * *

 “Did you go out with Francis in high school?” 

Arthur scowled against Gilbert’s chest. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how many people he’s slept with,” Gilbert frowned, staring at the ceiling.

“And you think I’ve slept with him if I’ve gone out with him?” Arthur griped.

Gilbert sent him a knowing look, eyebrows raised.

“Alright, alright, I see your point,” Arthur grumbled. “You know, I think I liked it better when you weren’t a morning person.”

“You’re the one who insisted on cuddling after coffee,” Gilbert smirked.

Arthur smacked him gently on the side. “Don’t try and pawn this excuse off on me. I brought you coffee; _you’re_ the one who dragged me back into bed.”

“Just answer the original question, Arthur.”

“Changing the subject does not change the blame.”

“So I’m gonna assume yes, then.”

“Did _you_ go out with Francis?”

“Once or twice.”

“Did he make you do the rose thing?”

“Ugh, yes, it was awkward.”

“I know, right?”

“I just wanted a bath afterwards.”

“But how many people do you think he’s done that to?

“Just because he went out with them doesn’t mean he had sex with them.”

“Arthur.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“So how many?”

“Including me?”

“And me.”

“That number may be too high for the human mind to calculate.”

“But how many do you _think_?”

* * *

“How’d you learn German?” Arthur asked, turning his head to look at Gilbert. 

“Why do you insist on talking after sex?” Gilbert countered.

“Because you like to talk during inopportune times.”

Gilbert groaned.

“Are you going to answer the question or am I going to have to guess?” Arthur grinned.

“My grandfather taught me,” Gilbert sighed, rolling on his side to face the other man. “He came over from Germany with my Vati right after World War II. My Vati was… three? I think?”

“Wow,” Arthur breathed.

“Ja,” Gilbert agreed. “It was really tough for them, you know? But anyways, my grandfather only speaks German. Not the normal German, the old style, the stuff used during Prussian days.”

“I always thought Prussia was a made up country,” Arthur admitted. “Or a typo in my history books.”

Gilbert scowled. “Well, it used to be a great empire. And my grandfather doesn’t speak a lick of English.”

“Sorry,” Arthur mumbled. “Didn’t mean to offend.”

“Whatever,” Gilbert grumbled, and Arthur knew there were no hard feelings. “So, growing up, my father had to learn English so that he could get around. My mother was German, too, descended from a royal Prussian line. My grandfather really liked her.”

“I bet,” Arthur chuckled.

“Mein Vati says that they used to have long conversations, only in German. When Caesar was born, Vati didn’t want him to know German. Obviously, that went over real well.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

“And when I was growing up, Mutti only spoke German to me. I learned both German and English at the same time. I’d spend hours with Opa, talking about the old days and what Prussia must have been like…” Gilbert’s tired voice grew fond.

Arthur couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

“West didn’t learn German until high school,” Gilbert continued. “He was only two when Mutti and bruder died, so the only German he ever heard was from me and Opa. Vati only speaks English, and will only use German when talking with Opa.”

“Is that why you sometimes use German words and phrases when speaking English?”

Gilbert frowned at him. “I don’t do that.”

Arthur laughed. “Yes, you do. Normal people don’t swear in another language or use the words ‘bruder, Mutti, and Vati’ in normal conversations.”

Gilbert’s frown deepened. “No I don’t…”

“It’s okay,” Arthur grinned. “Francis and Antonio do it too. English is their second language as well.”

“Huh…”

“So why do you sometimes only speak in German to Ludwig? If he only learned in high school, he can’t be as good as it as you are.”

“Oh, West is fluent in it. He just doesn’t like using it often. I use it because I don’t like it when other people eavesdrop on the conversations. West goes along with it because he knows I won’t stop until our argument is over.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You would.”

“Trust me,” Gilbert sighed. “Sometimes, it’s better that way. Some of the things we say to each other isn’t all that nice.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Arthur frowned.

Gilbert didn’t reply, just looked at the blond for a long moment, closed his eyes, and turned away from him.

Arthur didn’t sleep well that night.

* * *

 “Why’d you pick politics, of all career choices?”

Arthur shrugged, face pressed into Gilbert’s back. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“But politicians are so…” Gilbert was silent, trying to come up with a good enough word.

“Untrustworthy, useless, stupid, have their heads up their asses?” Arthur supplied.

“Well… yeah,” Gilbert responded.

Arthur chuckled. “We’re more than that. We make the decisions that help govern our society. We’re the ones who have to listen to the people, so that the higher ups understand what’s happening and can make the people happy.”

“Good job that’s doing.”

“Yeah, it’s a little messed up right now, but we’ll get it right one day.”

“Can you speed that day up a little?”

“That’s part of my job.”

“Well, do it better.”

“I would, if someone didn’t like to cuddle in the mornings.”

“I told you before, I don’t cuddle.”

“Then what are we doing right now.”

“Talking. Because I refuse to talk after sex.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

“Would you rather I just be an ass?”

“I’d rather you be in my ass.”

“We just had sex last night.”

“What, you got something against morning sex? It’s the weekend, you don’t have to be at work today.”

“No, but I would like to get dressed.”

Gilbert turned around, smirking as his hand slipped beneath the covers.

Arthur jumped slightly, frowning. “Gilbert,” he chided.

“Arthur,” Gilbert said.

Arthur glared at him.

“Hey, it is the weekend, I can top if you want, but I was feeling generous and just thought-”

“Shut up and turn over,” Arthur growled, pushing Gilbert into the mattress.

Gilbert gave him a triumphant smirk.

* * *

 “So how many people do you think?”

“I thought we already had this conversation.”

“I’m still trying to crunch numbers.”

“Francis sleeps with everyone.”

“But _how many_.”

* * *

 “Why do have that bird, anyways?”

“What do you mean?”

“There has to be something better for a pet than a _bird_.”

“Hey, Gilbird is a part of this family.”

“Yeah, no, I got that. I’m trying to figure out why.”

“He’s cute.”

“… Is that seriously your own reason?”

“Well, why do you have a cat?”

“I’ll have you know that Sir Ignatius is a purebred Scottish Fold, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, but why a cat? Why not a dog or a bunny or a hamster?”

“Dogs and I don’t get alone, hamsters are creepy, and did you seriously just say ‘bunny’?”

“Well, why not a bird?”

“Birds are boring.”

“Say that Gilbird’s face!”

“I’m not getting three feet within that bird’s vicinity.”

“You’re afraid of him.”

“I am not!”

“You are too!”

“Am not!

“Are too!”

“Am no-GILBIRT, GET HIM AWAY FROM ME!”

“Kesesesesese!”

* * *

 “So am I ever gonna hear about your mysterious father?” Gilbert asked softly, watching Arthur read.

Arthur stiffened, book nearly falling out of his hands. He turned to look at the man besides him.

“Um…” he stammered. “Really, I’d rather not talk about it…”

Gilbert stared at him.

Arthur stared back.

“You don’t have to,” Gilbert told him. “But it’s better to talk about things like that. If not, then it’ll just fester and mold inside of you.”

“Maybe I like mold,” Arthur snapped.

“I’ve seen the state of your bathroom. There’s no way you like mold.”

“Shut up, Gilbert,” Arthur glared. “Go to sleep.”

Gilbert stared him more, before turning over. Arthur let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“You know, I never figured you’d be one to run from your problems,” Gilbert’s quiet voice said.

Arthur couldn’t focus on his book after that.

Somehow, he just felt bad about everything.

* * *

 “Why don’t you like Feliciano?”

“I have my reasons.”

Arthur stared at Gilbert, eyes narrowed. Gilbert was lying on his stomach, face smashed into the pillow.

“Are you going to share those reasons?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Arthur glared at him. “I don’t want to talk about my father.”

“Then I don’t want to talk about Feli.”

“You’re being childish.”

“Am I?”

Arthur glared some more, turned around to face the wall, and shut off the light. “Goodnight, Gilbert.”

“Whatever.”

* * *

 “There has to be one person!”

“Gil, I promise you, we may never know.”

“One stupid person!”

“Your brother?”

“Don’t even go there!”

“Too late.”

“I can’t get the image out of my head!”

Arthur laughed.

“Gott verdammt!”

* * *

“My father essentially abandoned me and my brothers after my mother died.”

Gilbert twisted around, facing Arthur. He was silent.

“He told Scotty that he was going out for groceries for me, but didn’t come back for a week. When he did, he was drunk.”

Arthur closed his eyes, burying his face into his pillow. He felt Gilbert shift slowly towards him until their arms were touching.

“I was too young to remember, but Owen says that…. It wasn’t pretty. I guess my father was a violent drunk. Scotty took most of the hits; Owen says he was trying to protect us.”

“That’s what older brothers do.”

“Yeah, well… it didn’t work too well. Scotty could only do so much, he was only ten at the time.” Arthur felt Gilbert shift a little closer. “I guess I look a lot like my mother, and my father was angry that she… died. So whenever he saw my face, he thought I was her. And he would go ballistic.”

Gilbert was silent.

“It wasn’t too bad,” Arthur went on. “I mean, he wasn’t there for a lot of the time. Usually he showed up once a month, if we were lucky. The longest time he was gone was fourteen weeks, but the fallout after that was… well, it wasn’t pretty.”

“Didn’t anyone ever notice?” Gilbert asked quietly.

Arthur shook his head. “We kept it hidden. He never… you know… where anyone could see.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“He was still our father, Gilbert. He wasn’t always like that. Our mother’s death pushed him over the edge. We just kept hoping that he’d snap out of it.”

“And he never did…”

Arthur shook his head again. “No. Turns out, crazy runs in the family. Scotty was in rehab for a while for alcohol, Ian had a bunch of eating disorders in high school, and I see crazy hallucinations. Strangely, I think Owen’s the sanest of us. He just has a bad anger problem.”

Gilbert was silent for a long moment. “What happened to him? Your father, I mean.”

Arthur shrugged. “He left the day before I graduated high school. I left for an advanced program for college the day after I graduated and I haven’t… haven’t been home since.”

“Don’t your brothers know?”

“Like I stated before, we don’t talk. I have their numbers for emergency purposes, but..  well, I’d rather not have any ties that could come back to haunt me.”

“But maybe your brothers want to make sure you’re okay,” Gilbert said softly. “I mean, you said it yourself, they protected you when you were younger.”

“They also made my life hell too,” Arthur groused.

“But it sounds like they really do care,” Gilbert argued softly. “I’m just saying, if anything ever happened to West, I’d be freaking out…”

Arthur was silent. He felt Gilbert hug him from behind. 

“West is kicking me out after Feli moves in,” he whispered against Arthur’s neck.

“What?”

Gilbert nodded. “He hasn’t said anything about it yet, but I know it’s happening.”

“How do you know, though?”

“When they first got engaged, I heard Feli saying what how nice it’d be to have a house with just the two of them. When West told him I’d probably still be here, Feli told him not to worry, he’d take care of it. He’s got West wrapped around his little finger, and he’ll do whatever that little brat wants him to.”

“But where would you live?” Arthur asked. “Surely your brother wouldn’t just let you go without making sure that you’ve got a place to stay.”

He felt Gilbert shake his head. “That’s just it. If it’s for Feli, then West’s judgment is clouded. He’d kill me if it meant making Feli happy.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t.”

“I’m sure he would. As far as he’s concerned, all I do is sleep, eat, and make a general nuisance of myself. I take up room and money and time that West doesn’t want to spend.”

“Have you talked to your brother about it?”

“I don’t have to. If it’s not true, he’ll berate me for thinking about it and then make me feel guilty. If it is true, which it is, then he’ll just tell me to get used to it, find a way myself. Nevermind that I helped raised him because my father was always at work and never at home. Nevermind that I helped put him through college. And when I’m at my lowest point, he wants to just toss me out? I’d rather just sit back and wait for it than let it get here quicker.”

Arthur was silent.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “If that time comes, you’re welcome to stay with me.”

“Thanks,” Gilbert replied. “I’m sorry, too. For your father and… stuff… and for pushing you about it.”

“Same.”

Both men were quiet. Arthur reached up and behind him, grabbing Gilbert’s hand. He felt the man start a bit before he brought the arm around him, threading his fingers with Gilbert’s over his chest.

Gilbert pressed closer to him.

The two said no more that night.

There was nothing else to be said.

* * *

 “Why me?” Arthur asked softly.

Gilbert frowned, face dropping. “You want the truth?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “No, I want the lies.”

The pale man bit his lip, and Arthur immediately felt bad. This was obviously something big for the other man. He sighed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Gilbert shook his head. “No, no. It’s okay.” He shifted so that he was staring at the ceiling. “Why you, huh?”

Arthur nodded, but kept quiet.

“When I was younger,” Gilbert said, and Arthur got the feeling that he was about to enter the man’s most personal thoughts and feelings. An unidentified feeling blossomed in his chest. “I was the shit.” Arthur stifled his chuckled and forced down the smile. This was important. “I’m serious. I had a successful business, my own house. I was working by day and partying by night. I was making more in a day than most people make in a year. I was unstoppable.”

“What happened?” Arthur asked quietly.

Gilbert glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “There… there was an accident,” he said softly. “One of my workers… he died on the job. He… there was this whole investigation and the family sued and it was just really messy.

“The detectives found out some health hazards. The thing is, I _know_ that that shit is bullshit. I personally made sure that all my machines and whatnot were completely up to the best standards. I don’t know exactly what happened, but they were adamant that the faulty equipment caused the death.”

Gilbert took a deep breath.

“Within a week, I lost my business, my workers, my business partners… everything. I lost the suit and within a month after that, I was broke. Two months later, I had to file for bankruptcy and then I got evicted from my house. West… West took me in, but… I haven’t been able to get back on my feet for years.

“My friends… Francis and Antonio… Roderich and Elizaveta… at first they were really supposrtive. But the longer I went on… the less they did for me. Like, they stopped going out with me, stopped inviting me places. It was like they just didn’t care anymore. I was a hopeless case who couldn’t do anything but mooch off his younger brother. Never mind that I basically helped  _raised_ the kid to begin with.

“Getting them to do anything with me… to basically just _look_ at me, to _see_ me, was like pulling teeth. And then you came along and everything was new and you might have pushed me away, but you _did_ see me. For the first time in years, someone didn’t see me as useless or a screw up. You saw me as something new, and I just… it was like crack to me and I just kept coming back for more and…”

Gilbert wiped a hand over his face. “Arthur, you might not have cared when we started this… thing… but you care now. And it’s not based on my past, it’s… it’s based on who I am now, and that’s something that no one has ever done in years.”

Arthur scooted closer, wrapping his arms around Gilbert’s bare chest.

“You see me at one of my lowest points, and you still _like_ me for it,” Gilbert whispered. “That’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for me in years.”

“Well, you are sort of an ass,” Arthur mumbled. His eyes widened when he realized what he’d just said and he scrambled back, sitting up. “God, Gilbert, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-I wasn’t thinking-I’m sorry, I just…”

He trailed off when Gilbert turned away from him, shoulder’s shaking. Guilt pierced Arthur like he’d never known before. Gilbert hadn’t laughed at him or called him names when he’d confessed other things to him.

“Gilbert,” he asked tentatively. “Gilbert, I’m _so_ sorry.”

Gilbert was making weird, wheezing noises. Arthur felt more guilt stab him in the heart. “Gil?” He reached out a hesitant hand and laid it on the man’s shoulder.

The touch caused Gilbert to roll back onto his back. There were tears coming out of his eyes while he held a hand over his mouth. But the tears weren’t from sadness, Arthur realized, when he saw the mirth in Gilbert’s red eyes and the huge grin behind his hand.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked in an awed voice. His eyes narrowed as Gilbert let out a snort. “What are you laughing at, stop laughing!”

But the more distressed Arthur became, the harder Gilbert laughed. Arthur smacked the other man on the shoulder.

“Stop laughing, this isn’t funny!”

Gilbert shook his head, snorting hugely and loudly when he tried to calm himself. His eyes got wide for a moment and then locked with Arthurs. He caught the twitch of the blonde’s lips before he broke out into laughter once more. This time, Arthur couldn’t help himself as he broke into a grin and joined in.

It took both of them a while before they calm down, gasping for deep breaths as they lay next to each other, grinning like madmen.

“Oh, Gott, I haven’t laughed like that in ages,” Gilbert chuckled.

“You’re a jerk,” Arthur told him, slapping his chest lightly. “I thought you were crying.”

“Please, I’m too awesome to cry.”

“Ass.”

It was silent for a few seconds before they both chortled and laughed again, more in control this time.

“Stop it!” Arthur grinned when they were done.

“You stop it!” Gilbert replied, smile huge.

“I will smother you with a pillow,” Arthur warned.

“Not if I smother you first!” Gilbert lurched forward, pillow in hand, smile on his face.

Arthur let out a surprised squawk and scrambled backwards, but Gilbert grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward. His long fingers attacked Arthur’s sides.

“Gilbert, no!” Arthur cried between laughter. “Gilbert, stop! That tickles! Gilb-stop it, I-Ack-Gil!”

Their laughter filled the room, Sir Ignatius watching with his flicking tail in the doorway.

* * *

 

“But _how many_?!”

“Let it go, Gil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added in some Arthur whomp and baggage because we're getting deeper into his mind and the big bomb is going to drop at any point here soon. (I actually know when, I'm just not gonna tell you guys...)


	9. Ashes of a broken life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory backstory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand we see why Arthur is the way Arthur is. It's a little less dramatic than it probably could be, but hey, I figure that with the way Arthur felt, mixing with his childhood, it'd have some pretty deep effects on him. (Also, I love the movies that they watch, so don't hate me for hating on them. Sharknado is especially special.)

_“I want your warm bright eyes_   
_To never look away_   
_Don’t you ever look away”_

* * *

Arthur blinked at Gilbert as the man plopped himself on the couch next to him, bowl of popcorn in his hand and a bottle of beer on the coaster. Arthur raised a brow as he threw a blanket over their laps.

“What are you doing?” he asked, raising his book so that Gilbert could adjust the covers.

“Watching a movie,” Gilbert replied easily, grinning at Arthur.

“No, I got that,” Arthur said, cocking an eyebrow. “I meant why are you watching it here?”

Gilbert, finally settled, it seemed, with the bowl of popcorn in his lap and the remote in hand, turned on the TV and proceeded to click through Arthur’s Netflix, searching for the title he wanted. “’Cause you’ve only got one TV,” Gilbert told him. “Really, Arthur, I don’t understand. You’ve _got_ to get one for your room.”

“Is there something wrong with the TV in your room?” Arthur asked.

Gilbert gave him a perplexed look. “No.”

“Then why did you come over just to watch TV?” He honestly hadn’t even heard the man enter. It was a true testament to how accustomed he was to Gilbert being around that he wasn’t startled by the man’s sudden presence at times.

The tall man sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “West kicked me out for the weekend,” he said softly. “He’s got this engagement party to plan with Feli and apparently I cause more trouble than help.”

Arthur felt a stab of sympathy for the man. “Your own brother won’t let you help plan his engagement party?”

Gilbert shook his head miserably. “No.”

Sighing, Arthur turned back to his book, shaking his head. “Fine. But keep the volume down. This is the first time I’ve been able to make any progress in this story.”

“You got it!” Gilbert grinned, and Arthur felt a happy feeling course through his body.

Of course, he should have known better, because not half an hour later, he had to ask Gilbert to turn down the sound. Fifteen minutes after that, he had to chastise him for yelling at the TV. Twenty minutes later, Arthur seriously regretted giving Gilbert a key to his place because the man just couldn’t sit still and watch a movie, oh no. He had to talk through the whole thing and yell at the characters and make stupid observations. Sir Ignatius was having a field day with all the popcorn Gilbert was throwing at the TV.

“For the love of God, please sit still!” Arthur groused as he lost his place in his book for the umpteenth time.

Gilbert ducked his head and smiled sheepishly at him. “Sorry.”

Arthur glanced at the screen where a lanky Italian man was talking with a large, grey moustached man about disguises.

“What the bloody hell are you watching?” he asked, squinting at the TV as if the movie he saw wasn’t really real.

“The Master of Disguise!” Gilbert crowed, a huge grin on his face. “It’s great! And by that, I mean so bad that it’s great!”

“So… you’re purposely watching a bad movie?” Arthur said slowly, trying to wrap his head around it.

“Uh huh,” Gilbert said around a mouthful of popcorn.

“You’re disgusting,” Arthur scolded lightly, playfully smacking him on the arm with his book. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Sure thing, Art.”

Arthur sent him a weak glare, which Gilbert responded with a smile. “Just watch, you’ll understand.”

Reluctantly, Arthur set his book down and settled back to watch the film. He couldn’t help but smile when Gilbert quoted a few lines, and laughed when the other film references came up. He watched as Pistachio became a true Master of Disguise through the series of ridiculous endeavors and through all the shenanigans that seemed the most unlikely to ever happen.

When the film was over, even after all the bloopers and Pistachio becoming friends with the Slapping Dummy Man, Arthur still didn’t understand.

“That was horrendous,” he said, frowning. “I can’t believe you made me watch that.”

“I know, isn’t it great?” Gilbert laughed, already scrolling through the titles to find another movie.

“You purposely do this?”

“Yup!”

“Why?”

Gilbert shrugged. “Why not? Everyone talks about the good movies enough, but the bad movies are still fun to mock. Especially ones that didn’t really try at all.”

Arthur shook his head. “I still don’t get it.”

“There’s nothing to get,” Gilbert replied. He seemed to settle on a title and glanced at Arthur, grinning. “Wanna watch another one?”

“No,” Arthur said. He stood up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. Gilbert looked crestfallen for a moment. “I’m going to the bathroom first. While I’m there, you can get more popcorn and pick up the ones that the cat hasn’t managed to get. _Then_ , we’ll watch another one.”

Gilbert simply beamed at him, scrambling up and practically sprinting to the kitchen. Arthur shook his head.

When he got back, changed into a pair of pajamas as well, Gilbert was already waiting on the couch, teasing Sir Ignatius with a string from the blanket. Arthur sat down in his seat next to the man, tucking his legs under him.

“Alright, what are we watching now?” he asked, settling the blanket once more.

“Get ready to witness the greatest disaster to ever grace television,” Gilbert announced, clicking the play button. “Sharknado!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Arthur deadpanned.

Gilbert laughed, shoving a mouthful of popcorn into his mouth before offering the bowl to Arthur.

An hour and a half later, Arthur was leaning with his head against Gilbert’s shoulder. The credits were rolling and the two just sat there, staring at the TV.

“That was terrible,” Arthur said. Gilbert chuckled. “No, really. It was horrible. Even the acting was bad. It’s like they didn’t even try.”

“That’s what makes it awesome!” Gilbert crowed. Without waiting for a reply, Gilbert instantly selected another. “Here, this one is just golden.”

“Snow Queen?” Arthur questioned when the title card appeared. “I’ve never heard of this one before.”

“It’s a Hallmark movie,” Gilbert supplied. “It only really aired once.”

They were halfway through the movie when Arthur yawned. Gilbert slung an arm over his shoulders, drawing him closer. They resettled easily, and Arthur didn’t notice how right the entire thing felt.

Two thirds of the way through, the popcorn was finished, and both men were fighting to stay awake. They had repositioned themselves to lay the full length of the couch, Arthur resting his head on Gilbert’s chest. The blanket was draped over them both, Sir Ignatius curled up asleep between them and the couch.

When the movie was finally over, Arthur sighed.

“Thank God,” he muttered. “I never thought it’d end.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Gilbert chuckled softly.

“I like the idea of it more than I actually like the movie itself.”

“It had potential, admit it.”

“Yes, it had potential.”

“We should watch The 10th Kingdom tomorrow,” Gilbert declared. “It’s another Hallmark movie. Well, not really a movie. It was a miniseries, and when edited together, it’s a seven and a half hour movie.”

“Yeah, no,” Arthur said, lifting his head to rest his chin on Gilbert’s chest so he could look the man in the eye. “I’m not watching a seven hour movie.”

“Seven and half hours,” Gilbert corrected.

“Whatever,” Arthur grumbled, rolling to the side slightly so he could sit up. He cracked his back as he did so, letting out a contented sigh. Gilbert squirmed under him, following suit.

“I’m going to bed,” Arthur declared. He watched as Gilbert yawned hugely, failing to cover his mouth.

“Yeah, alright,” Gilbert said. “Mind if I sleep on the couch?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “My bed too good for you?”

Gllbert groaned, letting his head fall against the couch cushion. “Arthur, I’m not in the mood for sex. I’m just sleepy.”

“You tosspot,” Arthur rolled his eyes. “I don’t want sex, either. But my bed is much better than the couch and it’s not like you’ve never slept there before.”

Gilbert stared at him wide-eyed for a moment and Arthur couldn’t help but notice how adorable the man looked when he was caught off guard. Gilbert recovered quickly, though, and grinned. “That’d be great,” he said, standing and following Arthur to the bedroom. Sir Ignatius, awoken from his slumber, padded annoyed behind them, hopping up on the bed and instantly going back to sleep.

Arthur climbed under the covers while Gilbert stripped down to his boxers before following suit. Arthur turned off the lights when they were comfortable, Gilbert wrapped warmly around the smaller man. Arthur could feel his breath hitting the back of his neck.

“Night,” Gilbert said quietly.

“Good night,” Arthur replied.

As the two slipped off into dreamland, it hit Arthur that, perhaps, tonight could have, technically, been qualified as a date.

The next morning, when Gilbert stumbled into the kitchen, Arthur thrust a cup of coffee in his hands and steered him towards the couch, where the TV was already set up. Gilbert blinked blearily at him. Arthur answered his silent question.

“It’s my turn,” he smiled. “And today, we’re watching Disney movies.” 

The grin Gilbert gave him warmed Arthur’s heart as they settled down to watch The Lion King.

* * *

Gilbert rolled off Arthur to lay beside him, resting on his back. Arthur gasped for breath, chest rising and falling in time with Gilbert’s.

“Holy shit,” he gasped.

“I know, right?” Gilbert said.

“Holy shit,” Arthur repeated.

“I _know_.”

“We’re doing that again,” Arthur told him. “A lot.”

“I’m okay with that,” Gilbert replied.

The two were quiet as their breathing went back to normal.

“Can I ask you a question?” Gilbert suddenly said after a while.

Arthur jumped slightly. It was unusual for the other man to want to talk after sex. It was even more rare that he initiated any type of conversations. His side of the conversations usually ended up occurring in the mornings. If Gilbert was asking, then it had to have been important.

“Uh, sure,” Arthur said. Horrible images flashed through his mind or Gilbert in some form of trouble. “Is everything alright?”

“Ja, everything’s fine,” Gilbert replied. “I just… I wanted to ask you something.”

Arthur shifted to look at Gilbert. The pale man was facing the ceiling, but he was looking at Arthur out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, okay, go for it,” Arthur told him. Something was up, and he was curious. Usually Gilbert just asked when he had a question. Both of them were comfortable enough in their relationship-whatever it was that they were-that they were able to ask anything and pretty much do anything they wanted with each other.

Gilbert hesitated, and Arthur frowned. Whatever was coming, he knew it was big if Gilbert was worried about asking it.

Finally, Gilbert asked, in a voice to quiet and timid that Arthur almost didn’t hear him. “Who was it that made you so afraid?”

Whatever it was that Arthur had been expecting, that wasn’t it. He felt some of the air leave his lungs, and his vision narrowed, shoulders stiffening as he sat up. He really, really hoped that Gilbert wasn’t asking what he thought he was asking.

“Excuse me?” he whispered.

“Who made you afraid?” Gilbert repeated, still quiet but more confident now.

Arthur sucked in a short breath. “Afraid of what?”

Gilbert sat up a little too, turning to fully face the blond. “Afraid of… of everything. You’re so tense about everything and tight-lipped. Getting anything out of you is like pulling teeth.”

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arthur stammered, eyes darting everywhere. Unwanted pictures flowed through his mind; video reels and photos that he had buried deep down, that he hadn’t thought of in months, all because of the man in front of him.

And just like that, it all bombarded him once more, all because of the man in front of him.

Gilbert frowned at him. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Arthur glared at him. “You don’t know anything.”

Gilbert’s face went through a myriad of emotions before the tension in the room seemed to decide for him. He glared right back. “It was just a question, Arthur, don’t get so worked up about it.”

“I’m not getting worked up about it!” Arthur cried, all and every rational thought leaving him. “ _You’re_ the one getting worked up about it!”

“I am not!” Gilbert exclaimed. “Listen to yourself! Calm down!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Arthur yelled.

“Arthur!” Gilbert growled.

Pleasant memories that made Arthur tear up with nothing that was pleasant came to mind. Arthur scrambled backwards, away from what he realized later was a worried Gilbert.

“You don’t know anything about me!” Arthur screamed. “You think you do, just ‘cause you have sex with me and you come over to my house and ask me questions, but you don’t!”

Gilbert glared at him. “Will you listen to yourself? You’re being ridiculous!”

Arthur threw a pillow at him. “Get out!” he cried. “Get out, get out, get out!”

The taller man threw back his covers and got out of bed, hastily putting on his clothes.

“Get out!” Arthur repeated, throwing whatever was in reach at Gilbert.

“I’m going!” Gilbert snarled. He grabbed his key and threw at Arthur. It landed on his recently vacated spot on the bed. “You can have your fucking key back! This is fucking over!” Without tying his shoes, he stormed out of the room. Arthur listened to him slam the front door shut.

He let out a loud, agonized, frustrated scream, flinging the wayward key to the floor. Sir Ignatius let out an angry hiss and fled the room, disappearing down the hall.

As he listened to Gilbert’s car start up and fade in the distance, Arthur sat with his back against his headboard, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, and wept.

* * *

He called off work the next day, told his boss that he was sick.

It wasn’t far from the truth. After all, it had been a while since Captain Hook and Tinkerbell showed up in his room. He could hear the unicorn whinnying in the backyard. Flying Mint Bunny puttered around his head, telling him to get up and go make some breakfast.

Arthur ignored them, burying himself in his bed and pulling the covers over his head.

“Wake up, Arthur!” the little rabbit cooed. “It’s time to wake up!”

“Go away,” the blond muttered.

“There are things to do!” Captain Hook grumbled. “Get back here, you little fairy!”

The musical sounds of Tinkerbell flying about reached his ears.

Arthur curled up tighter, tears leaking out from his eyes. He sniffled and wiped at his face, feeling his cat jump on the bed and settle next to him. He didn’t have the energy to push him off.

Everything had been going fine. Better than fine, actually. Arthur had been doing great for the first time in over a year, and then Gilbert had to go and mess it all up. All just because of a stupid question that Arthur just didn’t want to face.

And now Gilbert, the one good thing in his life since… since…

Fresh tears spilled out of Arthur’s eyes and he pressed his face into the pillow to muffle his sobs. He heard his phone vibrate, but he ignored it, not up to talking to anyone.

Sir Ignatius rubbed his head against Arthur’s back.

“Stop it,” Arthur mumbled.

The cat didn’t cease, nudging harder.

“Sir Ignatius, stop,” Arthur growled.

He didn’t.

Arthur thrust off the sheets covering him, ignoring the hallucinations he saw, and glared at his cat. “I said stop it!” he cried, shoving the cat away. The feline gave him an angry growl and glared at him, flicking his tail.

“Leave me alone!” he screamed to room, reaching up and clutching his hair, slamming his eyes shut. “Leave me alone!”

He felt wings flutter around his head and whispering in his ears. Tears leaked out of his eyes and fell down his cheeks.

“Stop it!” he cried. “Just stop it, go away!”

The whispering got louder.

“Please,” Arthur begged, listing to the side and falling back onto the bed. A strange smell assaulted his nostrils and made him cry harder.

The scent of Gilbert’s shampoo, mixed with the smell of sweat, still clung to the sheets and his pillow. He reached up and grabbed the pillow, clutching it to his chest and pressing his face into it, Flying Mint Bunny floating above him and telling him the unicorn was hungry.

Arthur had made a terrible mistake.

* * *

Arthur bit his lip as he stared at his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Flying Mint Bunny hovered over his shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

Arthur ignored him and typed out his message.

 

**From:** Arthur

**Thursday, 1:49 AM**

_You up?_

 

Once more, he hesitated over the send button before he swatted at the space where Tinkerbell fluttered. Scowling, he hit the green button.

Arthur wasn’t surprised when he received no response.

It was too late at night for Gilbert to be up. And if he was, once he saw Arthur’s number, the likelihood of him responding dropped down to zero.

He had made a mistake sending that message, but it was too late now. Arthur sighed, chucking his phone a few feet away from him on the bed. It landed on Gilbert’s side.

Arthur brought a hand to his mouth, absently chewing on a hangnail as he wondered when things in his house became Gilberts. Things like _his_ side of the bed, _his_ red mug in the cabinet, _his_ toothbrush next to Arthur’s in the bathroom, _his_ towel. Arthur swallowed, holding his head in his hands.

He’d screwed up. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. Just a little fling, a thing with no strings attached.

But somewhere along the way, he had started to _like_ Gilbert. And he was trying so hard _not_ to. Because letting anyone else in, anyone in farther than he could control, gave them the power to hurt him. And Arthur wasn’t sure he could handle anymore hurt, not after the past few years.

He’d screwed himself over this time, and not letting Gilbert in had been what hurt him. 

Arthur jumped when his phone chirped, signaling an incoming message. He stared it for a moment before scrambling towards it, fumbling as he attempted to look at the message.

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Thursday, 2:01 AM**

_fuck off_

 

Arthur grimaced. He deserved that. With slightly shaking hands, he typed out a response.

 

**From:** Arthur

**Thursday, 2:03 AM**

_I’m sorry._

 

He nibbled on his thumb as he waited for a reply.

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Thursday, 2:04 AM**

_fuck u_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Thursday, 2:06 AM**

_You have every right to be mad at me, but I really am sorry. Let me make it up to you?_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Thursday, 2:09**

_no_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Thursday, 2:11**

_Please? Let me explain._

 

It was a while before Gilbert responded.

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Dec 21, 2:17**

_our deal or friendship or w/e is off. leave me alone._

 

Arthur bit his lip. He was hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to explain to Gilbert, to tell him that he didn’t mean for all this to happen.

It didn’t look like he’d get the chance, and now he lost the one person he cared about now, and who could have possibly cared back.

He didn’t send a text back.

* * *

Arthur didn’t hear again from Gilbert for almost two weeks.

At first he tried to look at it like a welcome reprieve. He actually got to sleep in his own house without worrying about waking up and making the other man breakfast, and he could establish a regular routine for the mornings and evenings. He could make what he wanted and not have to listen to someone complain about it. He didn’t have to worry about stocking the fridge with stuff that he never ate and cost him more money than he was used to spending.

But Arthur had never realized how quiet and lonely his house was.

There was no music playing in the mornings, and no loud singing from the shower. The TV was hardly ever on. The beer that had accumulated in his fridge remained untouched. There was no tinkering of multiple tools coming from his garage at the late hours of the night. His bed was strangely cold.

It had been another stressful week at work, strangely reminiscent of that first week he had met Gilbert, and all Arthur wanted was a hot bath and to curl up with a good book.

Or sex.

Okay, if he was honest with himself, which Arthur was trying to do more and more lately, he was tense. It was a tenseness that wouldn’t go away with heat or a massage or tea or reading. He wanted some form of physical workout that involved physical contact.

Which was how he found himself sitting on his couch and staring at his phone, Tinkerbell hovering nearby while Captain Hook wandered his kitchen. His finger hovered over Gilbert’s phone number as he bit his lip. Their arrangement was off, Gilbert had said, but… but Gilbert couldn’t mean that, right? It was… it was just a fight. They had gotten too close to each other, something that booty calls just didn’t do.

And it _was_ just a booty call… there was no harm in calling up someone for casual sex, right?

Arthur supposed that he could go solo tonight, but there was a hollow pit in his stomach that made him feel empty just at the thought of it. He could also go out to a random club and pick up a one-night stand; it was the weekend, after all. But again, something just felt wrong about that.

He debated a few more minutes, going through all the possible scenarios and what he would actually _say_ to Gilbert. Tried to think of what Gilbert might think or say, when a soft knock sounded from his front door. Arthur glanced up, locating Sir Ignatius to make sure his cat was already inside for the night, before he sighed and stood up, heading towards the door, Flying Mint Bunny following him. It was probably one of those pesky children in the neighborhood, playing one of their stupid games.

Imagine his surprised when he was greeted with the sight of a miserable Gilbert.

Making sure that a scowl was on his face to fool the other man into thinking he _hadn’t_ just been about to call him, Arthur ran an eye over Gilbert.

Gilbert was also scowling, hands stuffed deep into his pockets and hunched over slightly. His hair was falling into his eyes.

“Can I help you?” Arthur asked softly, internally proud that his voice didn’t betray his emotions. He was, however, slightly worried about the other man.

“I dunno,” Gilbert snapped, before wincing. He brought a hand up to his hair and swept his bangs away, only for them to fall back into place a moment later.

The two stood there, staring at each other awkwardly. Arthur wasn’t sure what was going to happen.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Gilbert snorted loudly. Arthur glared at him.

“Look, we had a fight,” he growled. “And I know we’re not dating or anything, and I know what I said, but I still want our arrangement to stand. I’ve had a horrible week and I’m incredibly horny so can we please just forget that this ever happened and fuck?”

“God, yes,” Arthur breathed in relief, feeling his chest lighten as he grabbed a slightly surprised Gilbert by the wrist and yanked him inside, slamming the door behind him. Arthur hauled him into his bedroom and pushed him down on the bed. Gilbert landed with a soft thump, eyes wide as Arthur crawled atop him, shirt already shed as he proceeded to hastily undo Gilbert’s pants.

“Shit,” Gilbert breathed as his mind finally caught up with what was happening. “You’re not messing around tonight, are you.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I’ve had to deal with idiotic politicians, morons screaming at my face, my car breaking down, and many other little things all week,” Arthur growled, finished in his endeavor of ridding the taller man of his pants. He threw the offending garments to the floor and grabbed Gilbert’s quickly hardening cock, making him gasp. He pushed Gilbert’s shirt up to the neckline, exposing his nipples. He leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m topping tonight,” he purred, before lowering his face and licking one of the nubs. Gilbert groaned in pleasure.

Arthur didn’t let him voice any complaints, if he had any; based on the outcome, though, the Brit was pretty sure that Gilbert was satisfied with the outcome.

He even felt so much better later, long after they finished, as Gilbert lazily traced the outline of Arthur’s guitar tattoo that resided on his hip. Arthur was on his back, running a hand gently up and down Gilbert’s boney back.

“So,” Gilbert said softly, turning his head to look at Arthur. “Angry sex is awesome.”

Arthur grinned at him. “I can’t say I disagree with you.”

Gilbert’s smirk turned into a frown. “But seriously, let’s not do this again. Two weeks is too long to go without sex.”

“Agreed,” Arthur quickly acquiesced.

“No, really,” Gilbert went on. “I think I developed blue balls.”

Arthur snorted. “Well, I think that problem’s been taken care of.”

“I’ll say. Did anyone ever tell you how great at sex you are?”

“I don’t think I can recall, no.”

“Well, let me be the first. Arthur, you are a god in bed.”

“Yes, yes, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

Gilbert pressed a small, quick kiss to Arthur’s sternum before settling down against him comfortably. “You’d better be.”

Startled at the blatant display of affection, Arthur watched as Gilbert’s breathing slowed. He let a small smile grace his face, wrapped both arms around the slumbering man, and closed his own eyes. They could talk in the morning.

* * *

Arthur watched Captain Hook jump and down, trying to capture a laughing Tinkerbell. Gilbert was lying with his back to him, awake, but silent. As Flying Mint Bunny came into the fray, scolding the old pirate about manners, Arthur made up his mind.

“His name is Neeraja,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he gazed up at the ceiling.

He felt Gilbert tense, then turn over. Arthur kept his eyes closed.

“We… we were high school sweethearts,” Arthur went on, trying not to let the hurt in his chest and the images behind his eyelids deter him. He owed Gilbert that much. “And after high school, he moved with me to college. We were roommates and then we got an apartment together.

“I was in love with him. And I would do anything for him; I’d kill for him, I’d kill myself for him, I’d do anything he wanted me to do, so long as it made him happy. I _lived_ to make him happy. I was head over heels, to the moon and back, forever and long after that, in total and complete in love with him.”

Arthur took a deep breath, trying to make sure it didn’t shake. He couldn’t feel Gilbert move next to him, barely heard him breathing over his own.

“And then I got my job. Which was great, because it was my dream job and I was so happy. But Neeraja… he didn’t want to move with me this time. He had his own classes he had to finish and it was easier if he just stay at school.

“So we agreed that I’d get the house here, live here during the week, and then visit him on the weekends. He came and helped me pick out the things for the house, get everything settled, all that stuff. And our arrangement worked out. I was a little exhausted after the weekend was over, but it worked.”

Images assaulted Arthur, and he bit his lip, trying to compose himself.

“I was going to propose to him,” he whispered. “I had a ring, the date all planned out. I went out and bought expensive wine, all the food Neeraja liked, candles, everything to make the perfect proposal. I had a few extra days off work, and I didn’t tell him, just drove back to the apartment and let myself in., ready to set up and surprise Neeraja.”

A few tears leaked out of his eyes and Arthur hastily wiped them away. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I couldn’t get in. The lock on the door had been changed, and when I asked the landlord about it, he said that Neeraja had left, terminated the lease. He’d claimed to have lost his key, which is why he had to change the locks.

“I called Neeraja, worried and upset, But he didn’t pick up. I finally tracked him down, an old house just outside of town. I figured something had happened and he went to stay with a few friends for a while.”

The tears weren’t stopping. Arthur kept his eyes closed.

“Except… it wasn’t a friend. It was his girlfriend. Apparently, he’d been seeing her ever since I moved away. I screamed at him, yelled at him, told him he was a liar and a cheat and that he had to stop seeing her, that we loved each other.

“But he didn’t… he told me that he loved her more than he could ever love me and I just… I just lost it. I screamed, I threw things, we argued, I broke his mirror, I flung everything I’d had for the proposal at him, even the ring. I begged him to see reason, pleaded him to stop, asked if this was some type of joke, tried anything and everything to get him to come back.”

Arthur gave up trying to compose himself.

“Neeraja told me that he could never love someone as controlling and anal and cynical as me, and that he’d never really loved me as much as he claimed.”

He took a deep breath, determined to finish his story.

“I kept trying to get him back, but… but I couldn’t. I drank myself in stupors and locked myself up in the house. That’s when I started to see the hallucinations. It was only after I realized that I needed the money to pay for the house or else I’d have to move back home that I made up my mind to check into the hospital.

“You know the rest,” Arthur sobbed quietly. “But I’ve never been able to get over Neeraja, and, to be honest, I’m not sure I ever will be…”

Gilbert was silent besides him, and Arthur refused to open his eyes. He wasn’t sure what Gilbert was thinking, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t care. He’d probably scared away the other man, and Arthur prepared himself for Gilbert to just up and leave. After all, he hadn’t signed up for this, and Arthur didn’t blame him if he just fled.

But Gilbert startled him when long, strong arms slowly, hesitantly, wrapped around his shaking form. Arthur let himself be guided into Gilbert’s embrace, where he buried his face into his strong, slim chest. He snaked his arms around to Gilbert’s back, blunt nails digging into his back as he latched on to something solid.

He felt one of Gilbert’s hands slowly stroke up and down his back as the other rested gently in his hair, a strong reminder that the man was there.

“I’m sorry,” Gilbert muttered into his hair, hot breath tickling Arthur’s scalp. “I didn’t realize… I’m sorry. 

Arthur shook his head. “It’s not your fault,” he cried quietly. “I just… I just…” The tears came faster, his throat closed up, and Arthur struggled to speak.

“Shh,” Gilbert said softly. “Shhh, don’t talk. It’ll be… I’m not leaving, okay? I’m right here.”

More tears, and Arthur, tired of everything and unable to deal with the painful thoughts any longer, let go completely for the first time since that fateful night. He let out a pained wail and cried without reserves, until he could feel the drowsiness that came from letting out his emotions encompass him. Gilbert’s hold around him was still strong, hands still soothing, and as Arthur let sleep take hold, he felt safe and warm for the first time in over a year.

* * *

Arthur awoke with a headache, a scratchy face, gunky eyes, and alone in bed.

He sat up in bed, frowning and scrubbing idly at his face, frowning and worrying that maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe Gilbert had decided that he wasn’t worth the trouble or the time and effort and left sometime in the middle of the night. His clothes and phone were gone. The only evidence that he’d been there at all last night was the rumbled sheets and Arthur’s hazy memory.

The blond sighed, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying not to cry again. He’d really, really made a fool of himself, in more ways than one. Gathering his strength, he climbed out of bed and into the shower, letting the warm water sooth his tense shoulders and wash away the night.

When he was finished, he put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, slipped on his slippers, and padded downstairs, hair still wet, and stopped short when he got to the kitchen.

Sitting on the table was a bowl of cereal, a glass of milk, a cup of Earl Grey tea, and the paper.

And sitting on the counter, reading the comics from said paper, was Gilbert. He looked up when Arthur let out a sharp breath.

“Hey,” he said quietly, folding the paper. He gave Arthur a sheepish grin. “You didn’t have much in your pantry or fridge, so I figured that cereal would have to do…”

Arthur gaped at him.

Gilbert became increasingly nervous.

“Look, I’m… I’m sorry that I insisted on you telling me. I didn’t realize how painful it was for you and I’m sorry. I just thought it was- Oof!”

Arthur didn’t give the other man time to finish as he flew across the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Gilbert. It was awkward because Gilbert was still sitting on the counter and Arthur’s face sort of knocked against his shoulder, but at the moment, he didn’t care.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The “I thought you’d left” went unsaid, but Arthur was sure that Gilbert knew anyways.

“You’re welcome,” Gilbert murmured, wrapping his arms around Arthur as best he could. The “I’m not going anywhere” wasn’t said either, but Arthur read it in the small, chaste kiss Gilbert planted on his forehead. 

Arthur didn’t shy away, didn’t notice that his imaginary friends had disappeared. For the first time in a long time, everything just felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is very Christmasy, so the next update will be sometime next week. Look for that soon!


	10. It's all about the chance that you're taking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Gilbert tread into deep waters, using each other as life preservers. This can only end one way...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FUCKED UP
> 
> I'M SO SORRY
> 
> I FUCKED IT UP

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Gilbert, who just grinned at him.

“Won’t Ludwig wonder where you are?” he asked the lounging man, taking in the bowl of cookies and candy canes in his arms. “It is Christmas Eve.”

“He’s at Feli’s,” Gilbert said. “Won’t be home for a few days.”

“And you’re just going to spend the holiday’s here,” Arthur stated.

Gilbert shrugged. “Why not? I’m alone. You’re alone. We can be alone together.”

“Yes, thank you for that reminder.”

“Aw, just get over here and watch old, cheesy holiday cartoons with me,” Gilbert laughed, throwing a candy cane at the blond. Sir Ignatius shot out of no where, picked up the treat, and scampered off before Arthur could grab it.

Sighing, but with a smile on his face, Arthur sat down next to Gilbert on the couch. He warily eyed the bowl of cookies.

“Did you make these?” he asked.

“West did,” Gilbert told him, pressing play on How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The original cartoon one, not the Jim Carrey one.

“Good, because you can’t make cookies for shit,” Arthur said, grabbing one and taking a bite.

“Says the man who can’t cook _anything_ without burning down the house.”

“That was one time!” Arthur cried. He chucked the remains of his cookie at the man, who caught it with his mouth and swallowed.

“Shut up and watch the movie,” Gilbert chuckled. He scooted closer to Arthur and threw an arm around his shoulders.

“I’ve always hated these stupid movies,” Arthur replied off-handedly. He squawked as Gilbert shoved him off the couch suddenly. “Gilbert!”

“I refuse to have anything to do with you,” Gilbert told him, taking up the rest of the couch. “Get out.”

“It’s my house!” Arthur scowled from the floor.

“You’re a disgrace to the human race for not liking these movies,” Gilbert said, shoving two cookies into his mouth at the same time.

“You’re a disgrace!” Arthur frowned.

Gilbert merely turned up the volume.

“Gilbert!”

The man ignored him.

Not one to be out done, Arthur leapt from the floor and tackled the other man, making him choke slightly on the food in his mouth. Arthur grabbed the bowl from his grip and jumped off the couch, holding them out of Gilbert’s reach.

“Give ‘em back!” Gilbert cried.

Arthur reached into the bowl and took out a cookie.

“West spent hours on those!” Gilbert said.

Arthur looked Gilbert straight in the eye and took a huge bite out of the cookie.

“Those are mine!” Gilbert whined.

“Mmmm,” Arthur moaned as he chewed. “These are good.”

“That’s it!” Gilbert launched himself off the couch and stalked towards Arthur.

The blond let out a squeak and swallowed his mouthful of food before taking off, bowl in hand. He heard Gilbert running after him.

“Give me back my cookies!”

“You have to catch me first!”

“Those are my cookies!”

“Not anymore!”

“You’re being childish!”

“Says the man who’s chasing after me because of cookies!”

“Those are _my_ cookies!”

Arthur laughed, glancing behind him. He missed the candy cane that his cat had strategically placed on the kitchen floor and he stepped on it, slipping on the shards and flailing his arms, cookies going everywhere as he attempted to get his balance back. He let out a cry as he crashed to the floor, landing on his back.

Gilbert, going to fast to stop, tried to avoid the mess before him, but it was useless. Cookies littering the floor and making it slippery, he too crashed to the ground, arms outstretched to brace his fall. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite accomplish his goal as he fell forward onto Arthur.

The breath was knocked out of the blond and Gilbert’s head knocked against the linoleum. Both let out a huge groan.

After a few moments, both catching their breath, Arthur gave a shove to Gilbert.

“Get off me,” he moaned. “Candy cane’s digging into my back.”

Gilbert groaned, pushing himself up, moving his hands to either side of Arthur’s head. He stopped halfway up, frowning.

“Oh, my head hurts,” he sighed, closing his eyes. Arthur scowled, reaching up to gently press his fingers against the red lump forming on Gilbert’s forehead, pushing the pale hair away from his eyes.

“That’s gonna be a nasty bruise,” Arthur said softly, wincing as Gilbert hissed at the pressure.

“Stop poking it,” Gilbert groused, eyes flashing open.

Arthur’s green eyes widened as he looked straight up into the red pools that were Gilbert’s eyes. Gilbert’s face softened a bit, and neither noticed as Arthur’s hand gently moved to the back of Gilbert’s head.

“Sorry,” Arthur whispered.

Gilbert licked his lips. “’S’okay,” he said softly.

“We’ll have to get some ice for that…” Arthur muttered, unable to look away.

“Uh, ja…” Gilbert replied.

Arthur slowly… slowly… guided Gilbert’s head closer to his face.

“I might need to look at it better….”

“Ja…”

“You could have a concussion.”

“I could…”

Gilbert’s breath was hot against Arthur’s face. Their lips were close, so close, they were almost brushing. Their eyes never strayed.

“I might…” Arthur breathed. “I might…”

Gilbert licked his lips slightly, tongue just barely avoiding Arthur’s lips.

Arthur’s old grandfather clock in the upstairs hall chimed midnight.

“It’s Christmas,” Arthur whispered.

“Ja…” 

The two were so close… so close. All Arthur had to do was lean up half an inch and their lips would touch. It would be so easy. The hand he had in Gilbert’s hair began to massage the man’s scalp.

“Merry Christmas, Gilbert...”

“Frohe Weihnachten, Arthur…”

The Who’s in Whoville were singing pleasantly in the other room as the last chimes faded away, green and red staring unwavering at each other.

Sir Ignatius meowed right next to them.

And just like that, the two blinked. The spell was broken, and Arthur’s hand dropped, Gilbert moving away as Arthur scrambled to a sitting position. Gilbert let out an awkward cough.

“So, ice…” Arthur mumbled.

“Ice,” Gilbert repeated, avoiding Arthur’s eyes.

Arthur stood up, wincing a little at his sore back, and headed to the freezer. He got out an ice pack and handed it to Gilbert, who took it and pressed it gingerly to his forehead.

As the taller man headed back to the couch, Arthur got out a broom and dust pan, cleaning up the mess on the floor.  He frowned at the candy cane as he stooped to pick it up, eyes sliding toward the other room where Gilbert’s white hair peaked out over the top of the couch. The credits on the movie were on screen, but Gilbert didn’t make any move to change that.

Arthur sighed, running a hand down his face and glaring at his cat.

“You have bad timing, my friend,” he muttered.

The feline meowed at him once, then padded out to the living room, disappearing around the couch.

* * *

The two of them never spoke of that moment again. They spent a nice, pleasant Christmas together, then Gilbert did go home. 

They met up for New Years Eve, and then their schedules returned to normal.

Well, as normal as things could get between them.

It was the weekend before Gilbert’s birthday, and Arthur was taking him out to eat. And maybe doing that thing the other man had been wanting to try, but he’d let that be a surprise.

He climbed out of his car and walked up to Gilbert’s front door, waiting for someone to answer the door. He was sure that, by now, Ludwig knew how much he and Gilbert were around each other. Well, not _how_ much, but enough. And Arthur was positive that the younger man had no idea what they actually _did_ during that time.

At least, unless Francis and Antonio had told him. Which Gilbert constantly reassured Arthur that they hadn’t.

“Arthur!” Ludwig said in surprise when he finally answered the door. “What brings you here?”

Arthur smiled warmly. “I’m actually here to see Gilbert,” he said, stepping inside when Ludwig gestured for him to do so.

The taller blonde’s face fell. “What did he do now?”

Caught off-guard, Arthur blinked. “Uh, nothing?” he replied.

But Ludwig shook his head, a frown on his face. “No, if you’re here, then he’s done something. Was it personal? Did he destroy something? Was it a person you knew?”

Arthur shook his head. “No, really,” he said. “Gilbert hasn’t done anything. I just came to-”

“Do I have to pay for something again?” Ludwig went on, ignoring Arthur’s statement. “Was it valuable?”

“Really, Ludwig,” Arthur tried again, but the other man was having none of it. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, Gott, you don’t have insurance on it, do you?” Ludwig fretted. He pointed at a stunned Arthur. “Hang on, let me grab my checkbook.” He quickly darted into the confines of the house. Arthur stood awkwardly in the hall, unsure of what to do or where to go.

He did, however, notice a shadow move and then Gilbert himself poked his head around the corner. Arthur opened his mouth to call out to him, but the pale man shook his head and held a finger to his lips. Ludwig came bounding back not a second later.

“I’m so sorry for whatever it is my brother’s done,” Ludwig was saying, flipping open his checkbook. “I’ll pay for it, I swear.”

“Ludwig-” Arthur tried again, but it was futile.

“Really, I’m so sorry,” Ludwig continued. “I don’t know what to do with him half the time. He’s always breaking things and making trouble for me and my bank accounts.”

Arthur watched as Gilbert’s facial expression morphed into one of absolute misery. Ludwig still didn’t know they had an eavesdropper.

The blond looked up at Arthur. “So how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” Arthur replied, edging towards the door. He subtly jerked his head at Gilbert, who nodded once and slunk back into the shadows. “Just tell Gilbert I came by. It was nice to see you!” Before Ludwig could get another word out, he slipped back out the door.

As he climbed into his car, Ludwig appeared on the front steps.

“I’ll talk to Gilbert and fix whatever he did!” he called, and Arthur gave him a small wave in acknowledgement as he peeled out of the driveway.

He couldn’t get the look on Gilbert’s face out of his mind.

Even as he pulled into the restaurant where he had reservations for, the expression on his… _friend’s_ … pale face haunted him. It plagued him as he sat down, and it wasn’t until Gilbert himself appeared at the table that Arthur felt any form of relief, however small it was.

“Sorry,” the man muttered. “I had to slip out before West found me.”

“It’s alright,” Arthur frowned, standing to pull out the chair for Gilbert. “Why’d he think you broken something?”

Gilbert winced, holding his head in his hands. “I may or may not have a reputation for destroying something when I visit someone’s house.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Gilbert nodded miserably. “It’s gotten to the point that the only reason people show up uninvited is because they want me to pay for whatever it is that I’ve broken. Unfortunately, since I have no source of income, this means that West has to pay for it.”

“How often does this happen?” Arthur asked.

Gilbert shrugged. “A lot more than you’d think.”

“Well, why do you end up breaking things? You’ve never broken anything at my house.”

“That’s because you pay attention to me.”

Arthur gave a slight jerk in his seat.

“Remember when I said it was like pulling teeth to get _anyone_ to do anything?”

“Yes, I don’t think I’d easily forget.”

“Well, if I go over to their house to hang out, it’s basically the same,” Gilbert sighed. “Like, no matter what I do, they just… they _ignore_ me. They act like I’m not there, and the only way to get them to pay any attention to me at all is to _break_ something.”

“But that’s not attention,” Arthur told him. “That’s just… that’s not exactly healthy, you know.”

Gilbert shrugged again. “Negative attention is better than no attention…”

Arthur frowned, reaching up to grasp one of Gilbert’s hands.

“Why don’t you ever stand up for yourself?” he asked quietly. “I mean, you act so differently around Ludwig and your friends than you do with me and I just don’t get it.”

Gilbert shrugged miserably, head still hung. He gripped Arthur’s hand tightly.

“My friends and West… they’ve seen me lose everything. And after… after my relationship with Ivan ended, I just… I slipped back into that cocky attitude I had before my business fell. It was easier than trying to explain everything that happened and to be honest, I didn’t really want to talk about it at the time.”

Arthur was silent.

“Look, West won’t give up, so…. Can you just accept the money and I’ll just add it to the tab I have with him?”

“Tab?” Arthur repeated. This entire thing was just a mess.

“The money I owe him from over the years,” Gilbert explained. He lifted his head and gave Arthur a wan smile. “It started when I moved in with him. I… have a habit of getting violent when I get drunk.”

“I’ve noticed,” Arthur chuckled softly. His small grin fell. “How much do you owe your brother, exactly?”

Gilbert was silent for a moment. “A couple thousand dollars.”

Arthur sighed. “How much is a couple thousand.”

A pause. Arthur was going to regret asking. “Seven thousand…”

The amount caught Arthur in his tracks for a second, taking the time to process it. He swore softly when the number flashed in his head.

“Shit, Gil,” he breathed.

If it were possible, Gilbert shrunk further in on himself, and Arthur felt bad for making him feel that way. He squeezed Gilbert’s hand reassuringly and gently shook it, getting his attention. Gilbert’s despairing eyes glanced up at him through pale fringe.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he smiled gently. “For now, let’s celebrate your birthday.”

Gilbert gave him a grateful smile, squeezing back. The two stared at one another, unaware of the fact that they were still holding hands until their waitress came over.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked cheerfully.

Gilbert and Arthur blinked. Arthur’s gaze slid down to their joined hands, Gilbert’s eyes following. The pale man blushed slightly and snatched his arm back, Arthur drawing his hands to his lap, coughing slightly to dispel his own blush.

“Uh, yes,” he stammered, flipping his menu. “I’ll have… the special.”

“The chicken wurst, please,” Gilbert muttered, handing the girl his menu.

“Got it,” the girl smiled. “You two are so cute together! What’s the occasion? Anniversary? Just a day out with each other?”

“His birthday,” Arthur smiled, not wanting to be rude while secretly wanting to embarrass Gilbert a little. He wanted the servers to sing to him.

“Arthur, shh,” Gilbert hissed.

Arthur smirked as the waitress squealed. “Aw, that’s adorable! I’ll be sure to get you a cake and have the others sing!”

“Danke,” Gilbert grumbled saracstically, falling back against his seat as he crossed his arms.

The waitress giggled and walked off. As Arthur and Gilbert resumed talking while they waited for their food, neither realized that they hadn’t corrected the girl when she assumed that they were a couple.

* * *

Arthur stared at Gilbert, who shuffled awkwardly before him. 

“You want me to what?” he asked.

“Nothing, just forget it,” Gilbert muttered, looking away and heading towards the hall.

“Gilbert, wait!” Arthur cried, a small smile forming on his lips. He gently grabbed onto Gilbert’s wrist to stop the man.

“It’s stupid, just let it go,” Gilbert snapped. Arthur didn’t miss the faint blush on his cheeks.

“No, no, it’s not stupid,” Arthur chuckled.

Gilbert bristled, shoulders coming up to hunch near his ears, much like a bird ruffling its feathers. Arthur found it endearing.

“Tell me again what it is exactly you were asking,” Arthur told him gently, soft smile gracing his face.

Gilbert’s blush deepened as he glared at the wall.

“Elizaveta and Roderich’s wedding shower is next weekend,” Gilbert murmured. “It’s at this huge, fancy restaurant and I just… I wanted to know… was going to ask… if you wanted to come with me.”

Arthur cocked his head slightly, trying to hide the amusement in his expression.

“Like your date?” he asked.

Gilbert ran his free hand through his hair as he shrugged. “If you want to call it that…”

“Well, what else would you call it?” Arthur smirked.

Gilbert yanked his arm out of Arthur grasp, beginning to pace. “I dunno, a friend accompanying another friend to a thing? Whatever you want to call it, I don’t care!”

Arthur laughed and Gilbert froze, turning to glare at the blond.

“Why are you laughing? Stop laughing!”

“Gilbert, it’s alright!” Arthur grinned. “I’ll go with you, don’t worry.”

Red eyes widened and Gilbert’s face betrayed his hope.

“Really?”

“Yes, really, you big git,” Arthur laughed. “Just tell me what time.”

“The thing’s at five next Sunday,” Gilbert said, a shy smile on his face. “I’ll pick you up at four thirty?”

“I’ll be ready,” Arthur smiled. He grabbed Gilbert’s wrist once more and pulled the taller man to him, eyes narrowed. “But you’re going to have to do something for me, too.”

Gilbert smirked after getting over his initial surprise. “Oh, yeah?”

Arthur leaned up and licked the shell of Gilbert’s ear, making the man shiver.

“Oh, yes,” he purred, reaching around to grope Gilbert’s ass.

The pale man let out a soft groan, and Arthur smirked, dragged him down the hall and up the steps, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him.

* * *

Gilbert waited surprisingly patiently as Arthur hurried down the steps, attempting to tie his tie at the same time.

“Sorry,” he muttered, glaring at the garment. “Sir Ignatius threw up all over my original shirt while I was wearing it and I had to change.”

The pale man frowned. “Is he sick?”

Arthur shook his head. “He ate a mouse last night and he’s just puking because he’s an idiot.”

Gilbert chuckled. “Aw, don’t be mean.”

“I’m being realistic,” Arthur grumbled. He huffed when his tie didn’t work out the way he wanted it to.”

“Just forget the tie,” Gilbert told him, grabbing the garment and flinging it over the staircase rail. He reached over and unbuttoned the top two buttons of Arthur’s pale yellow shirt and un-tucked his shirt. He stepped back, a small smile on his face. “There. Much better.”

Arthur scowled at him. “You said it was a fancy restaurant.”

“I said dressy casual,” Gilbert corrected, holding up a finger in the air. “You look perfect, let’s go.”

Arthur frowned as he followed the man out. “I’m keeping the shirt tucked,” he snapped as he did just that.

Gilbert shrugged as Arthur locked his front door, hands in his dark jean’s pockets. “Whatever you want.”

“I wanted the tie.”

“Whatever you want, besides the tie.”

“No.”

Gilbert grinned. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but walked behind the man, tucking in his shirt. His eyes wandered over the other man.

Gilbert was dressed in dark dress jeans, a deep red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the middle of his lower arms, and the top three buttons of the shirt undone. His hair was as messy as ever. Arthur clicked his tongue as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“You should have done something with your hair,” he muttered.

Gilbert shrugged as he started the car. “It’s too late now. Besides, no one cares.

Arthur scowled. “So what did you get the two?” he asked instead.

It was Gilbert’s turn to scowl. “Nothing. West got them something and then put my name on the card with his and Feli’s.”

“Ah,” Arthur said softly. “Sorry.”

Gilbert was silent.

“Should I have brought something?” he asked.

“Nah, they wouldn’t expect you to. You’re my…” Gilbert paused, unsure of whether or not to continue, glancing at Arthur out of the corner of his eye as he licked his lips.

“Date?” Arthur smiled.

Gilbert smiled softly as well. “Ja, date,” he said quietly.

Arthur turned away, smile growing. He didn’t mention the warm feeling he had in his chest.

When the two got to the restaurant and entered, Elizaveta met them at the door. She looked slightly shocked to see Gilbert there with someone.

“Uh, hello,” she stammered. She looked closer at Arthur. “Have we met before?”

“Arthur Kirkland,” Arthur reminded her, holding out his hand for her to shake. “We met at Alfred’s party a few months ago.”

Recognition dawned on her face and she smiled. “Oh, that’s right! I remember you!”

Arthur smiled politely. “Glad to hear it. I feel I didn’t exactly make a good first impression.”

Elizaveta waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it, no one does.”

Gilbert snorted beside them. Elizaveta turned an angry look on him, pointing a finger at his chest.

“Not another word, Gilbert Beilschmidt,” she growled.

Gilbert smirked at her then turned to Arthur. “When we were kids, Elizaveta-AH! Hey!”

The brunette woman looked smug as she uncurled her fist. She looked at Arthur once more. “Anyways, it’s great to see you again. Coming with Gilbert, though? Not your best choice.”

Arthur felt any and all amusement fade and he frowned. He didn’t miss Gilbert tense next to him.

“Actually, I was pleasantly surprised when he asked me to join him,” he said, attempting to remain polite. “He can actually be quite sweet when he wants to be.”

Elizaveta looked at him thoughtfully before she gave him a small smile. “Well, go ahead in. We’re just waiting on a few more before we serve dinner, so feel free to help yourself to the snacks out and mingle with everyone else. Gil, Ludwig and Feli are already here.”

“Of course they are,” Gilbert muttered. He hurriedly stepped away from Elizaveta and walked down the hall.

“Excuse me,” Arthur said to the woman. “I’m sure we’ll talk more later.”

“Of course,” she replied, smiling thoughtfully.

Arthur hurried off to catch up with his friend. He grabbed his elbow to stop him briefly.

“Whoa, hang on,” he said, frowning. “What’s up?”

“This was a stupid idea,” Gilbert muttered. “I should have never come.”

“That’s not nice,” Arthur told him. “What’s really bothering you?”

“This is just going to be a reply of Alfred’s party,” Gilbert told him. “Where I had to get drunk so that people would leave me alone and stop acting like they were better than me to my face.”

“Hey, now,” Arthur said gently. “You weren’t really drunk, remember? And besides, that’s not going to happen, you hear me?”

“Ja? What makes you so sure?” Gilbert groused, glaring at his shoes.

Arthur tucked two fingers under Gilbert’s chin and raised his head, meeting his eyes. Red eyes widened as Arthur smiled gently at him. “I’m here, this time,” he whispered. “I won’t let them do that. Promise.”

Gilbert stared at him for a moment before he looked away, nodding once. Arthur smiled and moved his hand to grasp Gilbert’s own hand, pulling him down the hall and into the dining area.

“No getting drunk,” he said as Gilbert eyed the bar. “You drove, remember? I don’t know this area.”

Gilbert sighed, but seemed to perk up when Kiku, if Arthur remembered correctly, strode up to them, greeting the taller man. The three talked amiably for some time before Francis and Antonio walked in.

Arthur did not feel any satisfaction in their surprised faces when they saw him.

Nope. None at all.

When Kiku stepped away and Gilbert excused himself from Arthur to use the restroom (“Why didn’t you go before we left?” “I didn’t have to go then!”), Francis and Antonio quickly sauntered over to him.

“What are you doing here?” Francis asked without preamble.

Arthur scowled. “I was invited, you git.”

“By who?” Antonio questioned, wide-eyed.

“Gil,” Arthur said with a shrug, past caring with these two. They already knew about him and Gilbert and their arrangement. They could know about this, too.

Francis and Antonio stared at him, mouths hanging open.

“Gilbert invited you?” Antonio whispered.

“ _You’re_ his plus one?” Francis practically screeched.

Arthur smiled smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Looks like it, yes.”

He reveled in their shocked faces.

“But… but that’s not possible!” Francis cried. Antonio muttered rapidly in Spanish.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “And why not?”

“Because you and Gil are just using each other!” Francis explained, looking like his entire world was flipped upside down. “You have your issues and Gilbert can’t handle commitment and this is just against everything I know!”

The short-haired blond smirked.

“But how?” Antonio asked, green eyes still wide. “Gil doesn’t… he doesn’t do relationships. Not since-”

“-Since Ivan, I know,” Arthur interrupted.

The two idiots stared at him again.

“You know about Ivan?” Antonio whispered.

Arthur nodded. “Yes, Gilbert told me. Along with many other things.”

The two gaped at him.

Arthur sighed, dropping his arms. He ran a hand over his face. “Look, Gilbert and me may have started out having nothing more than a casual relationship at best. But that was months ago and since then we’ve… we’ve become good friends. And when he asked me to come today, I couldn’t tell him no. So you’re blackmailing information? Yeah, you can shove it up your ass because while Gilbert and I may not be a couple, I can guarantee you that I’m not going anywhere for a long time. Gilbert’s my friend, my best friend, and I care about him.”

The two men stared at Arthur, who glared at both of them until Gilbert’s hand on his shoulder brought his attention elsewhere.

“What’s going on?” the pale man asked, frowning at Francis and Antonio’s faces.

Antonio pointed a finger at Arthur, then at Gilbert.

“You…” he stammered.

Realization dawned on Gilbert, and Arthur smiled as he shrugged. “Yeah, whatever. You can tell everyone now, I don’t really give a fuck.”

Arthur nearly burst out laughing at the other men’s facial expressions. Gilbert reached down and grabbed Arthur’s wrist, pulling him towards the desert table.

“Come on, they have little mint cakes and I want them before Feli and Lovi grab them all.”

Arthur grinned and followed without resistance, leaving Francis and Antonio standing there, trying to get over their shock.

The rest of the evening passed fairly quickly and uneventfully. Once  Francis and Antonio got over their little world-changer, they went back to normal, even roping Gilbert into doing karaoke, something that Gilbert seemed actually excited about. Arthur was leaning against the wall, watching the shenanigans with a glass of scotch in his hand and a smile on his face when Elizaveta came to stand next to him.

“You seem too be having a good time,” she smiled at him, a glass of red wine in her grasp.

Arthur smiled back and nodded. “Yes, actually.”

“I’m surprised,” the woman went on. “Normally, Gilbert’s… companions... don’t have a good time and he leaves with them fairly quickly.”

Arthur shrugged, frowning. “Maybe _he’s_ the one not having a good time.”

Elizaveta glanced at him, then back towards Gilbert, who was smiling as he sang loudly and off key. “Gilbert… he’s a lot more complex than people think.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Arthur sighed, sipping his drink.

Elizaveta looked at him. “You know, Gilbert’s been acting differently for a long time now.”

“Oh, really?” Arthur huffed in annoyance. “You’re just noticing him when he acts off?”

“You misheard me,” Elizaveta told him. “I didn’t say off, I said differently. He’s been… happy… and that’s something that I haven’t seen on him in years.”

Arthur stared at her. Elizaveta smiled sadly, looking at her glass. “He likes to pretend he’s all tough and macho and doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, but he does. He’s a huge softy and surprisingly sensitive about little things.”

Arthur was silent.

Elizaveta went on. “I know that sometimes I act like I don’t care, but I do. It’s just that I have no idea how to help him, because it always seems like he doesn’t _want_ my help. And then after that thing with Ivan…”

“You know about that?” Arthur asked.

Elizaveta stared at him. “You do?”

Arthur nodded. “He told me some time ago, actually.”

The woman hummed thoughtfully. “Huh… But I mean what I said. I do care about him; we’ve known each other since we were little. We used to take baths together, though the man will deny it.”

Arthur laughed.

“I don’t know how exactly the two of you became this close,” Elizaveta said. “Though I can only assume that it’s Gilbert’s doing. He’s a stubborn ass sometimes, especially when it comes to something he wants. But all I can say is that I’m glad that you didn’t blow him away.”

“Oh, I tried,” Arthur chuckled. “But he’s like a barnacle, latching himself onto me.”

Elizaveta grinned. “Exactly. So just know that underneath all that rashness and rudeness and bravado, Gilbert is actually sweet and caring and insecure.”

The blond smiled softly. “I know.”

“You take good care of him, ya’ hear?” Elizaveta told him. She raised her fist, smiling. “Or else I’m sure Gilbert can tell you what these things are capable of.”

Before Arthur could reply, could tell her that they weren’t, technically, a couple, just friends with a little more benefits on the side, Elizaveta gave him one last smile and headed off to say goodbye to a few other guests.

If he was honest with himself, though, Arthur wasn’t sure he wanted to correct her. And he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But when Gilbert caught his eye and smiled wider, and Arthur smiled warmly back, the blond was sure that, perhaps, this was going somewhere he wasn’t prepared for.

He was surprised when he realized that he didn’t mind in the least.

* * *

 **From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:23 PM**

_What are you doing on the 14 th?_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:25 PM**

_idk, y?_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:26 PM**

_My boss wants to have a benefit dinner to celebrate blah blah blah._

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:30 PM**

_yeah, so?_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:31 PM**

_Don’t make me ask…_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:32 PM**

_ask wat?_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:33 PM**

_God dammit, Gilbert_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:33 PM**

_b nice, or i wont say yes_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:34 PM**

_Will you please be my date to the benefit?_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9. 9:35 PM**

_y artie, i neva thought ud ask_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:36 PM**

_Does this mean you’re coming?_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:36 PM**

_wat time_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:37 PM**

_8_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:38 PM**

_tux?_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:38 PM**

_Yes._

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:39 PM**

_ur payin_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:39 PM**

_I figured._

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:40 PM**

_fine, guess i can fit it in my schdl_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:41 PM**

_Thanks. You coming over tomorrow for dinner?_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:42 PM**

_7, rt?_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:43 PM**

_Yes_.

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:43 PM**

_ill b there_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:43 PM**

_Great_.

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:44 PM**

_dont touch ne thing till i get there. u might burn the house down_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Feb 9, 9:45 PM**

_Goodnight, Gilbert._

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:45 PM**

_im serious, arthur. no touchy._

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:51 PM**

_arthur?_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:56 PM**

_dammit man, im serious_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 9:59 PM**

_i will not cook 4 u!_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 10:03 PM**

_i will withhold le sex!_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 10:09 PM**

_fuck u, u lousy brit_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Feb 9, 10:18 PM**

_ugh, gud nite, u stupid head_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No lyrics in the chapter 'cause I miscalculated and now I'm too lazy to fix it. Also, I planned for only 2 more chapters after this, but I think I'm gonna make it three...
> 
> As I edit this, I realized that the next chapter doesn't flow nicely so I think I'll just work on that one for a while and then split it up into two different ones.
> 
> SO THERE'S AN EXTRA CHAPTER FOR YOU GUYS.
> 
> ALSO, THANKS FOR THE KUDOS, GUYS!


	11. Fear of falling apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur makes a mistake...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheee, I edited this and I'm much happier with how the chapter came out.
> 
> Two more chapters, I believe! We're coming down to the home stretch!
> 
> (Hopefully sooner than later!)

_“If you’re out there in the cold…”_

* * *

Five days later found the two sharing a pleasant breakfast together.

Gilbert sat on the counter, swinging his feet back and forth, as Arthur flipped through the paper. A bowl of cereal was in his hands as he read over Arthur’s shoulder.

“Chew quieter, please,” Arthur replied offhandedly. He flipped the page.

“Hey, I wasn’t done,” Gilbert replied, swallowing as he reached over the blond, turning the page back.

“I have to go to work, read it later,” Arthur told him, turning it back. He grabbed the bowl out of Gilbert’s hand as milk sloshed over the side. “You have to go home. You told Ludwig you’d be home an hour ago.”

Gilbert pouted, hopping off the counter and following Arthur out the door. “West worries too much.”

“Your brother worries just the right amount.”

“Whatever.”

Arthur gave Gilbert a pat on the ass as he headed off to his car. “I’ll see you later tonight, right?”

Gilbert gave a sloppy salute. “Seven, ja?”

Arthur nodded. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Right-o, captain.”

“And remember, Gil. _Tux_.”

“Ja, ja.”

“I mean it, Gil.”

“I heard ya’ the first time!”

Arthur glared as Gilbert backed out of his driveway. He shook his head as the old car disappeared down the street, heading to his own car for his day at work.

It went well enough, his boss letting him go early to get ready for the benefit. Arthur wasn’t complaining; this party had everyone stressed and he was just about ready to punch the secretary in the face if she came and asked him about color schemes one more time.

He got to Gilbert’s house a little early, but he figured that the other man wouldn’t mind. Besides, the earlier they got there, the earlier they could leave.

In theory, anyways.

Ludwig answered the door, as per usual, and Arthur stepped inside.

“It was very kind of you to invite Gilbert to this party,” Ludwig told him as they waited in the living room for the other man.

Arthur smiled. “I wanted him to come,” he said. “He actually makes things better, believe it or not.”

The taller blond shrugged. “If that’s what you say. He can be a handful.”

“I don’t mind,” Arthur replied, face falling.

“Just keep an eye on him, ja?” Ludwig asked. “He’s got a knack for trouble.”

Arthur opened his mouth when Gilbert strolled into the room, frowning at his bowtie and not paying attention.

“West, do you know how to tie these stupid things? I can’t seem to-” he stopped, eyes going wide as he realized that Arthur was there. He stared at the blond, who stared back.

Even though the whole tuxedo was incomplete without the bow tie, Gilbert still looked dashing. The traditional suit fit him perfectly, accenting all his best bodily features. He had little iron cross cufflinks, and for once, had slicked his hair back. A few stray strands popped out at the top, but they fell in a way that framed his slender face in a rather handsome way.

“Uh… you’re early…” Gilbert stammered, eye flicking to his brother briefly. “I didn’t know you were early…”

“It’s alright,” Arthur chuckled. He stood up and walked over to Gilbert, reaching up to bat his hands away from the rumpled fabric. He quickly and easily made work of the tricky tie. “I figured that you weren’t ready just yet.”

“Then why’d you get here early?” Gilbert groused, chin held up a little so that Arthur had easier access to his neck. When Arthur stepped back, Gilbert ran wide eyes over the blonde’s form.

“Well, how much longer are you going to take?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gilbert crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. You said seven, so I’ll be ready at seven.”

“You’re ready now,” Arthur rolled his eyes. He looked at Ludwig over his shoulder, who was watching them with wide eyes, an unreadable expression on his face. “We’ll be going now, thank you for the hospitality.”

“Uh… sure…” Ludwig responded, still watching them with something akin to wonder. “Have a good time…”

“Don’t wait up, West!” Gilbert called as Arthur grabbed his elbow and dragged him out the door. “I’m spending the night at Arthur’s!”

They never got to hear his response, the door slamming beside them.

“What’s the rush, Arthur?” Gilbert asked as the two climbed into the car. “I thought you were dreading this?”

“I was,” Arthur told him. He sent an approving glance at Gilbert, who had the decency to blush as his eyes widened. “But then you had to go and look like that and now I’m just really excited to show you off.”

Arthur didn’t even care that he was stroking the man’s ego. Gilbert deserved it; he looked damned hot in that tux, and Arthur wanted him to know.

“You don’t clean up too bad yourself, Kirkland,” Gilbert replied, licking his lips.

“Oh, last names now, huh?”

“Only if you want to be.”

“I had an alternate plan for picking you up early, you know.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“The sooner we get there, the sooner we leave. And when we leave, I want to strip that tuxedo off you with my teeth.”

Arthur smirked as Gilbert shuddered. It was going to be an interesting evening…

* * *

Arthur would forever revel in the looks on his co-workers faces as he walked in arm and arm with Gilbert. The expression on that scum bag Tony’s face would be ingrained in his mind for years, and he really wished he had a camera to remember it. 

Of course, Gilbert was instantly aware of the attention and, at first, shuffled closer to Arthur in surprise. But as the night wore on, he acted more like himself, becoming the life of the party. He had their entire table in fits at dinner with his jokes and women and men alike kept asking to dance with him.

The blond was pretty sure that even his straight, married boss had eyed the pale man at least once this evening.

All that attention just made Arthur want to get Gilbert home all that more quickly so that they could get down to some _real_ business.

His boss slid up to him as Gilbert laughed with a few members from a different company, easily enjoying the attention that they all showered on him.

“Who’s your date, Arthur?” the man asked, handing the man a glass of champagne. Arthur took it gratefully.

Arthur smiled as Gilbert laughed heartily. “His name is Gilbert. He’s… he’s a good friend of mine.”

“Well, he’s certainly caught the attention of everyone here,” his boss chuckled.

“That he has,” Arthur laughed.

Arthur liked his boss. He was a sensible and honest man, who treated his employees with dignity and respect, a rare trait for a senator to have. He was very plain looking, average height with brown hair, brown eyes. He had three kids and a loving wife, whom Arthur had met on more than one occasion. She, too, was a average woman, but the two loved each other and Arthur supposed that that fact was what made them so ideal.

“-a man who I’d quite like to do business with,” his boss was saying, and Arthur refocused his attention to the conversation.

“Uh, yes, sir,” he said, not wanting the other man to know he hadn’t been listening.

“Arthur, please, no titles tonight,” his boss smiled. “Call me Harold.”

“Yes, sir,” Arthur said. “I mean, Harold.”

Harold rolled his eyes. “Anyways, I would like you to meet him tonight. He’s got a lot of great ideas and I think we should all get to know each other before we start brain storming next week.”

“Of course,” Arthur smiled.

“Will Gilbert be alright for a few moments?”

Arthur glanced at his friend. Gilbert was engrossed in telling a story, and Arthur grinned.

“I think he’ll be more than alright.”

Harold smiled. “Great!” he turned around in his seat, waving a couple over. Arthur took one last look at Gilbert, stupid smile still on his face and an unknown feeling creeping up on him, before he turned his attention to the couple his boss wanted him to meet.

His smile instantly fell as his eyes landed on the man and woman before him, butterflies turning to bees in his stomach as he met deep brown eyes and a dark tanned face.

“Neeraja…” he whispered, eyes wide.

The man before him stared at him for a moment before averting his gaze.

“Hello, Arthur…” Neeraja said.

Harold looked between the two, a frown on his face. “You two know each other already?” he asked.

Arthur couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. Everything crumbled around him, all his carefully constructed walls that he had thought had been repaired. He and Gilbert had talked about Neeraja a few more times, and each time, Arthur felt better about it. He felt that, for the first time in over a year, he was finally, finally, getting over the man.

But seeing the man he had loved for years, the same one who had destroyed his heart, before him made all it useless.

And to make it all worse, the woman clinging to him was the same one he had left Arthur for. And there was a ring on her finger.

Arthur was going to be sick.

“We, uh…” Neeraja stammered. “We… went to high school together.”

Harold’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, really?”

“Yes…” Neeraja said. He glanced at Arthur, frowning. Arthur looked away.

“Look, um, would you… would you mind giving us a few moments to catch up?” Neeraja asked. “We haven’t seen each other in… in a while and I think it’d be best before we discuss anything further.”

“Of course!” Harold said, though there was as suspicious note to his voice that made Arthur wince.

“Thank you, sir,” Neeraja said, untangling himself from his fiancée’s arm. “Arthur, would you accompany me outside?”

Numbly, Arthur felt himself nod and stand, setting his champagne glass on the table. He followed the taller man to the back door, where they entered the cool night air. Arthur didn’t even notice how chilly it was.

Neeraja stood awkwardly in front of Arthur, who refused to look at him.

“So, uh…” the man said. “Arthur…”

Arthur couldn’t speak. He was afraid that the moment he opened his mouth, he’d either cry, scream, or both.

“How have you been?”

And just like that, instant flames erupted in Arthur gut. He whipped his head up to glare at Neeraja.

“How have I been?” he hissed. “How I have I been? Are you talking about before or after you _broke my heart_?!”

Neeraja winced, something that Arthur took great pleasure in.

“What are you even doing here?” Arthur growled.

“My boss thought it’d be best to come to this benefit, get some close ties with the senator…” Neeraja explained.

“So you knew I would be here?” Arthur grumbled, eyes narrowed. “And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me? You just blindside me? My, how _kind_ of you.”

The other man sighed. “I understand that you’re angry-”

“Angry?!” Arthur cried. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I was _angry_ the night you left me. I was _angry_ when you told me that you didn’t love me. And I was _angry_ when you tore up my heart and then threw it on the ground and stomped on it.”

Neeraja winced. “Alright, I deserved that…”

“Deserved that?” Arthur screeched. “You _destroyed_ me! You have no idea what I went through! And then you just waltz back into my life and think everything’s going to be okay with just a couple of words?”

“I know!” Neeraja cried, interrupting Arthur’s tirade. “I know, I know, I know! When I found out that it was your boss that was putting on this benefit, I begged my own to let me come. I… I wanted to see you…”

“Oh, yeah,” Arthur scoffed, glaring. “And to bring _her_? To rub it in my face?!”

The man shook his head. “She only came because… because we’re…”

“Engaged, yeah, got it,” Arthur growled. He began to walk back towards the door. “I’d say I hope you two are happy together, but I really don’t. So I’m just gonna-Mmpf!”

Arthur’s eyes widened as he was whipped around and Neeraja’s lips clamped over his own. He froze, his ex stepping back after a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Neeraja breathed, still close enough that his breath ghosted over Arthur’s still warm lips.

Arthur was speechless.

“I mean, ever since I’ve proposed to Kali, all I’ve been able to think about is us… I keep thinking about that night and… it could have gone so much better.”

Arthur didn’t say a word, so many thoughts running through his head that he felt like it was going to short circuit.

“And when I found out that you were going to be here tonight, I just… and then I saw you, and realized that I’d made a horrible, horrible mistake. I never should have let you go and I never should have done what I did and I just… I want you back, Arthur…” Neeraja confessed, eyes searching Arthur’s.

One part of Arthur’s brain cheered. There was a party, complete with confetti, that was happening and telling him to fall forward, to take the opportunity to be happy. He could have everything he wanted, everything he’d been trying to get over was just being handed back to him on a silver platter.

But the other part screamed and kicked and thrashed, telling him no, telling him that it was all a mistake. That if it happened once, it could happen again, and no one would be there to help him. He’d be back at square one and then what?

These two halves argued in his head, and as Arthur stood there, staring at his once love, he made a choice on a whim. He fell forward, wrapping his arms around Neeraja and kissed him back.

Thin arms wrapped around his waist and Arthur leaned into the man deeper, tongues swirling in a familiar dance.

When they finally broke away, panting, Neeraja grinned at him.

“What do you say we get out of here?” he whispered.

“I can’t,” Arthur breathed, thoughts of Gilbert flashing in his head. “My boss would wonder where we went.”

Neeraja held him closer. “But I need you now…”

Arthur had waited months for that. Months and weeks and forever just to hear those words and there they were, finally, held out for him like an offering. Trumpets accompanied the words and fanfare bellowed, confetti was thrown and a parade marched with it. And Arthur was sorely tempted to just up and leave right then and there.

But a part of him was still doubtful. He had a flash of red enter his mind, silver hair, and laughter.

The blond sighed and stepped away from the other man. He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as the gelled strands came apart through the motion.

“I can’t….” he repeated. “This is a business affair and I… I can’t leave my… my date.”

Neeraja’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, I see you’re point.”

The two were silent, an awkward air between them.

“You could come by afterward, though…” Arthur said softly.

Neeraja smiled. “I’d like that.”

Arthur grinned shyly back, ignoring his inner voice that was screaming no, don’t do this, this can only end in hurt.

“I’m still living at the house. You remember where it’s at?”

“Of course.”

Arthur nodded, smiling growing. “Good.”

Neither said anything, that awkward silence returning.

“We… we should get back,” Arthur said, ducking his head.

“Yes…” Neeraja agreed.

Neither moved.

Arthur jerked a thumb at the door. Neeraja nodded and it was a moment before either of them took a step. Arthur followed, blushing when the other held open the door for him. They slipped back into the hall, a distance between them that bordered on uncomfortable.

When they got to their table, Neeraja instantly went over to his fiancée, and Arthur had to quell the hurt and jealousy that entered his gut.

But that was nothing compared to the guilt and sorrow that twisted his stomach when Gilbert slid up to him, a worried frown on his face.

“There you are,” he said. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

“Sorry,” Arthur murmured, refusing to look at him. “I had to step out for a second. Got a little too warm.”

“You feeling alright?” Gilbert asked, eyes narrowing in worry.

Arthur nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Harold strode up to them, smiling. “Well, Arthur, what do you say we talk business?”

Arthur had a momentary flash of panic as Neeraja and his fiancée wandered up to them. The girl was hanging off his arm, long blonde hair piled gracefully upon her head. She was wearing a long green sequenced dress and sipping wine out of a glass. Arthur suddenly felt sick.

“I assume that you caught up enough, then,” Harold was saying and Arthur jolted. He saw Gilbert give him a confused look out of the corner of his eye and all he wanted at that moment was to disappear through the floor.

For some reason, Gilbert couldn’t know. Arthur didn’t want Gilbert to know. He just wasn’t sure if it was to save himself the humiliation and feelings, or if it was because he wanted to spare the other man’s feelings.

But why would he want to do that? They weren’t dating, technically. They were just friends. Friends with benefits and nothing more. They weren’t an item, they were definitely not together, so Arthur sleeping with someone else should not have mattered in the slightest to Gilbert.

And yet Arthur wondered why he was even thinking these things if that were really true.

“We have,” Neeraja said when Arthur remained silent. “Unfortunately, I am not feeling in the best of health right now. Would you perhaps be willing to make an appointment for sometime this week where we can sit down in a more appropriate environment and discuss things?”

Arthur could have kissed the man right then and there.

Harold smiled. “Of course. How long are you in town for?”

“Until Thursday.”

“How’s Wednesday, then?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Excellent. Arthur?”

“Uh, yeah… Wednesday…”

Gilbert slipped his hand into Arthur’s as Harold turned to talk to Neeraja a bit more.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly.

“I’m fine…” Arthur mumbled, glancing away.

“You know him?”

Arthur _really_ wished that Gilbert wasn’t as intelligent as he was sometimes. Sometimes he just really wished that that dumb persona the man often wore was more than just a ruse.

“Old acquaintance,” Arthur told him instead.

He was immensely glad when Gilbert seemed to sense his discomfort and let the subject drop. He gently squeezed Arthur’s hand, and withdrew it a few moments later when Arthur ignored him.

The rest of the night passed in slow agony. All Arthur wanted was to go home, to see Neeraja. He couldn’t get out of the benefit fast enough, Gilbert trailing behind him.

They sat in the car in silence as Arthur drove, Gilbert oddly quiet in the passenger seat. If the other man noticed that Arthur was taking him back to Ludwig’s house instead of his own, then he didn’t say anything.

In fact, it wasn’t until Arthur pulled into the driveway and put the car in park so Gilbert could get out that the man said anything at all.

“Is everything okay?” he asked quietly.

“It’s fine,” Arthur replied, refusing to look at him. He concentrated on the clock, watching the number switch.

Gilbert shifted to get out, Arthur willing him to move faster. He mentally cursed when Gilbert paused.

“Did… did I do something to offend you tonight?”

Of all the things to ask, Arthur was surprised that that was the path Gilbert had taken. He slumped in his seat, shoulders hunched as he shook his head.

“No, Gilbert. You didn’t do anything.”

A pause. “Are you mad at me for something then?”

Arthur shook his head again.

“…Okay…”

The pale man hesitated once more before he opened the door and climbed out. He bent down before closing the door.

“West is gone all day on Tuesday if you want to come over,” he said.

Arthur could only nod, hand itching to put the car in gear and race home.

Gilbert frowned at him, and stood.

“Thanks for tonight, Arthur,” he said, and the blond could hear a bit of bitterness in his voice.

“See ya.” He slammed the car door shut.

Arthur didn’t have the heart to tell him that maybe, perhaps, this would be the last time they’d see each other.

Instead, he flew home, pleased to see an unfamiliar car but welcomed face in his driveway. He nearly tripped getting out of the car and instead fell eagerly into Neeraja’s arms, pressed his lips to the other man’s, and stumbled inside.

He slammed the door shut and ignored Sir Ignatius when the feline meowed angrily at the new intruder.

It wasn’t until later, with Neeraja wrapped protectively around him and asleep, that Arthur felt any remorse or guilt.

* * *

**From:** Gilbert

**Monday, 3:39 PM**

_wat time will u b home 2nite?_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Monday, 4:02 PM**

_Not till later_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Monday, 4:05 PM**

_west is havin a study group so im comin over_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Monday, 4:20 PM**

_Not tonight, Gil_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Monday, 4:21 PM**

_y the fuck not?_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Monday, 4:23 PM**

_I’m tired. Just want to relax_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Monday, 4:28 PM**

_fine. i can bring food and we can watch that new movie_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Monday, 4:33 PM**

_I’d rather not._

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Monday, 4:35 PM**

_WTF ARTHUR_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Monday, 4:38 PM**

_I said no, Gilbert_

* * *

**From:** Gilbert

**Wednesday, 6:47 PM**

_how was ur big meeting?_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Wednesday, 8:09 PM**

_Fine_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Wednesday, 8:11 PM**

_wow, thankx 4 sharin_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Wednesday, 8:29 PM**

_What would you like me to say?_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Wednesday, 8:30 PM**

_idk, dude. maybe wats got u so fuckin dickish lately?_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Wednesday, 8:43 PM**

_Goodnight, Gil_

* * *

**From:** Gilbert

**Thursday, 5:12 PM**

_im comin ova 2nite. need 2 talk_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Thursday, 5:19 PM**

_No. Going to be late tonight._

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Thursday, 5:22 PM**

_dont care wat time. really need 2 talk, arthur_

 

**From:** Arthur

**Thursday, 5:27 PM**

_Then find someone else, I’m busy_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Thursday, 5:30 PM**

_fuck u_

* * *

**From:** Gilbert

**Saturday, 1:46 PM**

_r u still an asshole or can i come over 2nite?_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Saturday, 9:54 PM**

_still an asshole. got it_

* * *

**From:** Gilbert

**Wednesday, 2:13 AM**

_arthur, i really need 2 talk_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Wednesday, 3:01 AM**

_watever i did, im sorry_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Wednesday, 3:34 AM**

_pls, arthur_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Wednesday, 4:18 AM**

_im sorry, okay?_

 

**From:** Gilbert

**Wednesday, 5:00 AM**

_gdi, arthur, wat do u want from me?_

 

Arthur winced as he read the text messages. He felt awful about ignoring Gilbert for the past week and a half, but between work and Neeraja, he hardly had any time for the other man.

He’d get home from work and call Neeraja, and the two would talk well into the night. On the weekends, the other man would come over, stay the few days. Arthur was ecstatic, a happy smile on his face constantly.

He ignored the guilt that crept up every time he heard his phone buzz.

Surely, Gilbert would get the hint. And Arthur was positive that the other man would be fine. After all, they could still be friends.

But he just wasn’t sure why he wanted to keep Neeraja from Gilbert.

Gilbert would understand, right? Once Arthur explained the whole thing to Gilbert, the pale man would be okay. They could still hang out, have movie nights, all the stuff they’d done before.

Without the added bonus of sex, of course.

Arthur didn’t want Gilbert out of his life. No, the other man was too far in for that to happen (and if Arthur was honest with himself, then there was no way he could continue living without Gilbert somehow). He just wanted Gilbert out of his love life.

It was the least he could do, right?

They weren’t a couple, after all…

“What are you thinking about?” Tan arms wrapped around his waist as Arthur quickly tapped out a generic reply to Gilbert before he set the phone gently back on his nightstand.

He turned around in the embrace, meeting Neeraja’s gaze and smiling as he gave the man a quick peck on the cheek.

“Nothing of importance,” he whispered.

Neeraja hummed and pressed his lips to Arthur’s neck.

Arthur’s phone didn’t buzz for over a week.

He tried not to think about it.

* * *

**From:** Gilbert

**Sunday, 2:46 PM**

_idgaf if u dont want me 2 come over. i need the shirts i left there, so ill be there in an hour_

 

Arthur was too preoccupied at the time to notice the alert tone his phone gave off. And he was too tired to check it later.

Imagine his surprised when he heard his name being shouted from downstairs. He shot up in bed, eyes wide as Neeraja stirred beside him.

“Arthur! Where are you?”

“Shit….” Arthur muttered, hurriedly reaching for the light and flicking it on. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“Arthur?” Neeraja asked sleepily.

He barely had time to climb out of bed and pull on a pair of boxers before his bedroom door was thrown open and an irritated Gilbert stood there.

Gilbert’s gaze instantly found Arthur, who had frozen like a deer in headlights. Neither said anything, and Gilbert’s eyes traveled over Arthur’s bare torso, to behind him, where Neeraja sat up on the rumpled bed and looked expectantly at Gilbert.

“Oh…” he said quietly. Arthur winced at the obvious hurt on his face.

“Can we help you?” Neeraja asked.

Gilbert’s eyes narrowed. “You? No. Arthur? Yes.”

Arthur couldn’t speak. His tongue was heavy in his mouth and he felt like if he opened his lips, he’d suffocate from the heavy air surrounding them.

“Who are you?” Neeraja asked, frowning. “And why do you have a key to our home?”

Gilbert glared at the man. “My name’s Gilbert, you fucking imbecile. Who the fuck are you? What the fuck gives you the right to call this place you-”

Arthur flinched as recognition suddenly hit Gilbert in the face. He watched as Gilbert snapped his mouth shut, looked from Neeraja to Arthur, back to Neeraja, and finally settled his red eyes on Arthur, who glanced away.

He shook his head and glared at the man in the bed. “You’re Neeraja,” he said.

“Yes, so?”

Gilbert’s face turned murderous as he took a step towards the man and Arthur hurriedly stepped forward to put a hand on his chest, stopping him. Gilbert glared at him.

“You know, we might not be an item, and you can sleep with whoever you want, but I just figured that, after all we’ve been through and everything we talked about, you’d at least have the decency to tell me when you were finished with me,” he growled.

“Oh, please,” Neeraja snapped. “You’re not even in league with Arthur.”

“And you are?” Gilbert snapped.

“Both of you, stop!” Arthur exclaimed, finally finding his voice. He turned to Gilbert. “Gil, I’m sorry. I just… I got caught up and at the benefit we sort of.…”

“No, no, I get it,” Gilbert snapped, glaring. He shot a glare at the blond. “Let me know when you… want my _services_ again. Until then, I’m out.” He walked back out the door.

“Gilbert, wait!” Arthur cried, scrambling after the man. He caught him at the bottom of the steps. “Wait! Just let me explain!”

Gilbert wrenched his arm from Arthur’s grasp and spun to glare at him. “Explain what? There’s nothing to talk about! I get it, alright!”

“That’s just it, you don’t!” Arthur exclaimed. “Please, just listen to me!”

“No!” Gilbert yelled. “I will not! You know what, Arthur? I thought that… that we were… we were friends. Sure, we had a little on the side, but that doesn’t mean that you just _ditch_ me when something else comes up!”

“It was Neeraja!” Arthur cried desperately. He wanted Gilbert to understand, to see things from his point of view. Except now he wasn’t so sure that he had picked the right choice… Everything was falling down around him. “You can’t really expect me to-”

“I don’t care if it was the bloody Queen of England!” Gilbert screamed, and Arthur caught the hurt in his eyes. “You don’t just abandon friends without an explanation! I might have not been your first choice, but at least have some fucking heart and tell me that you’re okay! I was fucking worried!”

Gilbert ran a hand through his hair as he sent Arthur a dejected glare. “I thought you were different, but you’re not! You’re just like the rest of them!”

Arthur swallowed as he realized what he had just done, what message he must have just sent to Gilbert. He opened his mouth to respond, to tell Gilbert that that wasn’t what had happened, that that wasn’t _true_ , but the pale man went on.

“No, you know what? You’re worse. At least the others visibly show and tell me that they just don’t care or they just ignore me. You? You just crawled inside, under my skin, and then you made me think that you were different, got my hopes up, and then you just _crushed_ them all!”

“That’s not what happened!” Arthur cried desperately.

“Oh, don’t even deny it!” Gilbert snapped.

“Please, just listen to me!” Arthur begged. He gestured up the steps. “Neeraja was just _there_ and I thought… I thought….”

“No, no, I get it, I really do!” Gilbert said. “But you’re so broken, you just keep putting on the same band aide that keeps falling off and you don’t realize it!”

“I’m not broken!” Arthur screamed. He wanted to stamp his foot, to slap Gilbert, to punch him, to make him listen.

“Yes, you are!” Gilbert cried.

“Shut up!” Arthur yelled. “You don’t know anything! You’re just making this up to feel better about yourself!”

Gilbert’s expression shifted to a hostile, guarded look. “You’re a fucking jerk!”

“At least I’m useful!” Arthur snapped, ignoring the side of brain that told him to stop, that kicked and screamed that what he was doing was _wrong_. “People _like_ being around me!”

The look on Gilbert’s face dropped before his mask slipped back into place.

“Oh, yeah. Because Neeraja leaving you and breaking you screams of affection!”

“He came back, didn’t he?!”

“You’re delusional if you think this is gonna work, Arthur!”

“At least he _did_ come back! Who’s come back for you, huh, Gil? Who’s cared about you deeply enough to come back?!”

Arthur ducked as a fist came flying at his head, stumbling backwards. He glared up at Gilbert, not able to miss the misery on his friend’s face.

“Fuck you,” Gilbert said quietly, dangerously, face blank. He reached into his pant’s pocket and withdrew his key, chucking it at Arthur. “Fuck you and your delusional love and I hope you’re miserable with Neeraja. Here’s your fucking key, and I don’t want it back this time. I’m through with you.”

The key landed at Arthur’s feet as Gilbert strolled to the front door, slamming it behind him. Arthur picked it up and stormed over to the door, opening it. He stood in the doorway as Gilbert got into his car.

“Fuck you too!” he screamed.

Gilbert flicked him off as he pulled out of the driveway.

Arthur let out a frustrated scream, throwing the key at the retreating car. He slammed the front door shut, glaring at the wood, before he screamed again, turning around and leaning against the door. He thrumped his head against it a few times, angry at himself, at Neeraja, at Gilbert, at everything. Everything was spiraling out of his control, something he hated and didn’t know how to stop.

He slid to the floor, drawing up his knees to his chest and resting his forehead on them, clutching at his hair. He heard Sir Ignatiius’s bell jingle as the cat approached him. Arthur ignored him.

“Is he finally gone?” came Neeraja’s voice from the top of the steps.

Arthur didn’t answer him. Had he just ruined everything? All within the matter of a few hours? Months and months of a good thing and then just destroyed it all?

“Well, good,” Neeraja said, coming down the stairs to kneel beside the blond. “Maybe now we can-”

“I think,” Arthur interrupted quietly, “that you should leave.”

He heard Neeraja pause. “What?”

“Please leave,” Arthur said, refusing to look up.

“Arthur-”

“I said get out!” Arthur snapped, raising his head to glare at Neeraja.

The Indian man looked startled, then angry. He stood up. “You know what? You’ve changed. I thought we could pick up where we left off, but I guess not.”

Arthur glared at him. “Of course we can’t! There’s too much bad blood between us!”

“Well, it’s your fault, anyways!” Neeraja sneered, standing. He threw an arrogant huff over his shoulder as he grabbed his jacket and slipped on his shoes. “You’re too clingy. This is why I left you to begin with.”

Neeraja left, slamming the door behind him. Arthur was left alone, back against the door, as he felt tears begin to stream down his face.

He was alone. Again. In one fell swoop, he had driven away the person he had thought he loved, but didn’t, and the one person who possibly cared more about him than anyone else, and who he cared about equally as much.

Neeraja was, and always would be, the one person who held a special place in his heart. At first, Arthur had thought that it was love, but as Gilbert crawled into his life, and after tonight, he realized that Neeraja’s place was one of regret. Instead, Gilbert had overtaken most of the man’s place, replacing the boarded up hole Neeraja had left with a strong web of his own. Except Arthur had let the end go, collapsing the web. 

Arthur clenched his hair, threatening to pull it out, as he began to sob. He cried for Neeraja, for making that huge mistake. He cried for Gilbert, for pushing away the only good thing in his life. But most of all, he cried for himself, for his own stupidity and his naïve thoughts and his careless actions.

Sir Ignatius butted his head against Arthur’s side, but the man ignored him. He curled up tighter, crying more, as he realized that he had just messed up every aspect of his life.


	12. Can't fall in love alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where it all comes to a head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The home stretch!
> 
> (Attempted smut ahead, please be kind...)

_“I want your warm bright eyes_   
_To come back to me_   
_And hold on to me_   
_You know I won’t lie_   
_I will never look away”_

* * *

 

The more Arthur thought about it, the more he stewed. Everything was one big clusterfuck and he was right at the center. He wasn’t all to blame, though. No, Gilbert was at fault, too. The way he spoke, the way he acted, it was so much more than a normal booty call and that wasn’t what either of them had signed up for.

Arthur had tried to call Gilbert, but it was useless. He’d either ignore his calls or texts, and when Arthur had tried to call the house, Gilbert had simply hung up on him.

Ludwig had even tried to get him to talk to Arthur, but no matter what, nothing worked.

And, unfortunately, the more Arthur stewed, the more he realized that Gilbert was just a huge jerk. It was all his fault, anyways. If Gilbert hadn’t taken him on as a project, then this never would have happened.

At least, that was what he was telling himself…

He’d sent some pretty awful messages to Gilbert, none of which Arthur really wanted to recall. And Gilbert, for once, hadn’t ignored him and had returned the insults in kind, of not worse.

His boss was upset and worried about him, giving him two weeks of leave to “get your life together” and Arthur was sitting on the couch, glaring at the television. He internally cursed Gilbert, throwing every horrible name he could think of. His phone buzzed, as it was wont to do nowadays, but one look at the caller I.D. had him scoffing.

Francis could go fuck himself.

Gilbert could go fuck himself.

Everyone could go fuck themselves.

Arthur sighed as he chucked the remote onto the empty seat beside him. A knock came from the door, and Arthur ignored it.

He didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want to talk to anyone. He belatedly realized that his hallucinations hadn’t come out to play yet, and Arthur wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. At first he had been ecstatic, but the longer he went without seeing them, the more nervous he became.

What if they, too, had left him? What if his mind was failing him, too? What if he was truly alone now…?

Another knock that the blond ignored.

Is this what Gilbert felt like all the time? No wonder he had latched into Arthur. And Arthur was actually feeling like he missed the other man.

A third knock, this one more forceful. Arthur scowled, but didn’t get up to answer it.

Maybe… maybe Gilbert had seen him, had seen how truly lonely Arthur had been, and that’s why he had been attracted to him. Misery loves company and all that…

But Arthur wasn’t the only to blame here! At least, that’s what the blond told himself. Gilbert didn’t _have_ to put so much time and energy into him… and he _certainly_ didn’t have to develop any other feelings besides lust for the British man. That was the other man’s own fault.

Honestly, he didn’t know what had been going through Gilbert’s head. There was no way it would have ever worked out. Arthur was career driven and Gilbert… he was a bum. He mooched off other people and was just a general nuisance to the people around him.

Arthur didn’t need him here. He didn’t want Gilbert here. He was better off on his own, anyways. After all, it was what he was used too… wasn’t it?

He didn’t feel as confident as he thought he should have.

The knocking came once more.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Arthur muttered, launching himself out of the couch and stomping to the door. He scowled when he opened the door.

“Whatever it is, just go a-” he stopped midsentence when he saw the sight before him.

Arthur opened the door, eyes widening briefly before they narrowed at the other man on his front porch.

Gilbert was drenched and soaked all the way through from the heavy rain that Arthur didn’t even notice had started. His bangs stuck to his pale forehead. He looked with sad and pleading and angry eyes at Arthur, hands jammed deeply in his pockets.

“What the bloody hell do you want?” Arthur snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. He told himself the only reason he didn’t slam the door in Gilbert’s face was because he seemed to have _walked_ here in this downpour. It’s only polite.

And maybe the other reason was because he was silently thrilled that the other man had shown up. Maybe he’d get a chance to explain, for once, and apologize… and put everything behind them. They’d fought before, and everything had worked out just fine. Who’s to say that it wouldn’t be alright this time, too?

Gilbert flicked his eyes to Arthur’s green ones before looking downward. “Can I come in?” he asked softly. Arthur barely heard him over the rain.

“No,” he replied shortly, eyes still narrowed. He internally slapped himself. Damn his pride!

The other man sighed, taking out a hand and wiping off his face. It didn’t seem to do any good, as his shaking hand was just as wet as his face.

“Okay,” was his response, and Gilbert just stood there, staring at the ground, while Arthur stared at him.

Eventually, the blond got tired of waiting. Was Gilbert just going to stand there all night? There was no way he was going to be the one that apologized first. And Gilbert _had_ to apologize; some of the things he’s said had been below the belt.

But so had some of the things that Arthur had said, his inner voice reminded him.

He stood up straight, ignoring it. “Look, if you’re just going to stand here and not say anything, then I’m going back inside. Let me know when you decide to leave so I can wipe off the porch from your disgusting-”

“Look,” Gilbert blurted out in a rush, posture straightening while at the same time managing to avoid Arthur’s eyes. “I just… I’m not exactly sure what to say or how to say it, so just gimme some time, okay?”

Arthur snorted. “What to say? How about how you’re a huge jerk and I never want to see you again?”

Gilbert winced, then scowled as well. “I should be saying that to you,” he glared.

A sharp stab of guilt hit Arthur in the gut. Yes, yes, Gilbert should.

So why wasn’t he?

“Well, I said it first,” Arthur huffed, crossing his arms. “So go one, apologize.”

Gilbert’s glare increased. “Me? _You_ should be apologizing to _me_!”

“I’m not the one who burst into someone’s house and interrupted an important activity!” Arthur cried. It even sounded more ridiculous when he said it out loud.

Gilbert’s eyebrow rose as he adopted an incredulous expression. “Are you even kidding me right now?” he snapped.

“No,” Arthur replied hotly. “I believe you owe me an apology. You ruined my chances at getting back together with Neeraja.”

Gilbert gaped at him. “You’re not seriously telling me you actually thought that after one night, everything might have been fixed, are you?”

“Of course I am!” Arthur exclaimed. “Everything was going fine until you burst in!”

“Arthur, that doesn’t happen!” Gilbert cried. “Not everything works out the way it does in a fairy tale!”

“It does if I want it to!” Arthur screamed, lightening flashing and thunder booming after his cry.

“Gott, you’re so infuriating!” Gilbert cried, throwing up his hands as he turned on his heel, taking a step away.

“I don’t understand why you even care!” Arthur yelled at his retreating back.

For some reason, Gilbert turned around, the rain soaking him even further, if that was possible.

“You know what?” he snapped. “You’re right! I _shouldn’t_ care!”

“Good!” Arthur replied. “Then good riddance to you!”

“I don’t know why I even bothered in the first place!” Gilbert screamed, turning back around and stomping back into the storm. “Have a good life, you pansy!”

Arthur let out a frustrated yell at him before stepping back into his house and slamming the door behind him. He kicked at it in anger before turning around and letting his back hit it with a thump. He brought his hands up to face and buried it in his grip, fingers tangling in his hair.

God, why did he feel like this? He wasn’t _supposed_ to feel like this. This whole arrangement had seemed okay at first; where, oh, where, had it gone wrong?

He felt terrible, and not just because of the fight. He felt bad because somewhere, along the way, Gilbert had come to feel differently about this entire thing. A few tears leaked out of Arthur’s eyes, and he wasn’t completely sure that they were all from just frustration.

Gilbert was right. He was delusional. He was fooling himself into being angry at Gilbert when the poor man had nothing to do with it. Gilbert was still struggling with his own feelings, and Arthur knew that the pale man didn’t know how to express them. It was what made Arthur so special; he could read Gilbert, sometimes better than the man himself.

There was a furious knocking on the other side of his door suddenly and Arthur startled, scrambling upward to his feet. He swung the door open, eyes wide as Gilbert’s anxious and frustrated face appeared before him.

“I thought we were done,” Arthur snapped, internally cursing himself at his tone.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Gilbert huffed angrily, rainwater dripping from his hair onto his face. “But you just make me so mad!”

“Is that why you came back?” Arthur asked. “To tell me that I anger you?”

Gilbert let out a frustrated noise and reached up to his head, fingers practically pulling his hair out.

“Yes!” Gilbert cried. Then he shook his head. “No! I don’t know!”

“Well which is it?” Arthur exclaimed, eyes narrowing.

“You make me so angry!” Gilbert told him, lowering his hands as he began to pace back and forth on the front porch. “You make me angry and frustrated and irritated and sometimes I just want to take your head and smack it against a wall repeatedly!”

Arthur opened his mouth to protest and yell at the other man, but Gilbert continued on, oblivious.

“You’re too uptight and organized and proper and the most infuriating thing is that you’re so afraid of taking a risk!”

“If you’ve come back to insult me, then you can save your breath!” Arthur finally got in, feeling his face heat up.

Gilbert waved his hands in wild motions. “That’s just the point!” he continued. “I make it seem like those are insults but no matter what happens, I just can’t seem to _see_ them as insults!”

Arthur paused, shocked. “What?”

The pale man in front of him went on like he didn’t hear him.

“No matter what I do or say or think, every time one of your stupid little habits or quirks pops up, I just can’t seem to make myself angry about it! Because no matter what happens, whether it’s your stupid tea preferences or the way you have to stick to your uptight schedule or _whatever_ , it’s annoying but in an endearing way!”

The British man’s eyes widened as he followed Gilbert’s pacing.

“And I’m not sure where or when or how or why, but somewhere through this entire thing, I came to like those things about you! And not in just the way we sleep together, but in an actual day-to-day routine way and I know that you’re still hung up on Neeraja and I’ve got a lot of baggage and it probably wouldn’t work anyways but I can’t just leave without…” he paused in his pacing and in his rant and Arthur willed the hope and butterflies in his stomach away unsuccessfully.

“Without… without…” Gilbert stood in front of him, and Arthur stared at him.

“Without what?” he asked, barely a whisper.

The Adam’s apple in Gilbert’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and Arthur could see him struggling to find the right words.

“Without telling you…” Again, Gilbert paused, working his lower lip between his teeth.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Arthur muttered. “Out with it, man, just get it over with!”

Gilbert sent him an exasperated look before he leaned down slightly to take Arthur’s face in his hands. Arthur’s green eyes stared, shocked, into Gilbert’s wide, teary red ones.

“I love you,” Gilbert breathed. Arthur jerked in his grip, but Gilbert’s hands were steady; gentle and strong at the same time.

“What?” Arthur whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

“I love you,” Gilbert repeated, voice wavering with the same emotion that Arthur was feeling. “Damned if I know why, but I fucking love you. You irritate the hell out me and your habits are annoying and you’ve got to get over this past thing and I’ll help you, if you’ll let me.”

Arthur was at a loss for words, his mouth hanging open agape. Gilbert’s eyes were filled with emotion.

“And it’s okay if you don’t love me back,” he went on. “It’s okay if you never want to see me again. But I just can’t leave this without letting you know. I love you, Arthur Kirkland. And I always will.”

Gilbert made a jerk of his own, an aborted movement, before he looked into Arthur’s eyes one last time before removing his hands and taking a step back. Arthur immediately missed his warmth, his touch still ghosting over his skin. He watched as Gilbert backed to the edge of the steps and gave Arthur one last look, as if memorizing his face, before turning and heading out into the rain without another word.

The motion made Arthur panic and with a strangled cry he launched himself after the man, uncaring that he was instantly drenched in the downpour as he ran after Gilbert. He caught him at the wrist, spinning Gilbert around as he threw his arms around the tall man’s shoulders and brought him down for a searing kiss.

Gilbert made a startled noise but melted into Arthur’s embrace. The blond felt long arms encircle his waist. Gilbert’s mouth was warm and soft as their lips meshed together. He pulled away after a moment and looked Gilbert in the eye, hands reaching up to tangled in the man’s soft white hair.

“Don’t you dare,” he said softly. “Don’t you dare leave, you imbecile. Not after a confession like that.”

Gilbert stared at him, face morphing into an expression of disbelief and hope. “Does this mean-”

“I love you,” Arthur told him, giving his lips another peck. “I love you, Gilbert, and if you leave now, I will never, never forgive you."

They kissed again, longer, deeper, and when they broke for breath, they were both smiling, tears mixing with the rain.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Gilbert murmured.

“Good,” Arthur whispered, pulling Gilbert’s head down for another deep kiss, neither needing any incentive to part their lips, tongues swirling around each other in a new and strange dance. It wasn’t a waltz and it wasn’t a tango; no, it was something completely new and exotic and _theirs_.

Arthur had never kissed anyone like this before. Gilbert’s arms tightened around his back, pulling him ever closer as he ran his tongue over Arthur’s teeth, exploring new territory. Arthur did the same to Gilbert’s mouth, not a little surprised to find the taste of alcohol still lingering there.

The blond had his hands wrapped in Gilbert’s messy locks, uncaring that he was messing it up further and tangling the strands. He didn’t care that he was soaked to the bone. He didn’t care that he had left the door open. All that mattered was that he was with Gilbert, and that he was never letting the man go ever again.

Thunder rumbled above them and Gilbert broke the kiss when lightening lit up the sky.

“This isn’t safe,” he panted, eyes never leaving Arthur’s.

“I don’t care,” Arthur gasped, reaching up to kiss Gilbert once more. “I just care about you.”

Another loud rumble.

“Let’s finish this inside,” Gilbert managed against Arthur’s lips.

The Brit let out a whine as Gilbert pulled away a bit, but then he was being hoisted up, Gilbert’s strong arms under his ass. Arthur quickly wrapped his legs around the other man’s waist, one hand sliding down to wrap around Gilbert’s neck for support.

As Gilbert began to walk, Arthur latched onto his mouth once more. He wasn’t sure whether the tingling when their lips met was from the electrified air or something else, but at the moment, he didn’t really care. All that matter was Gilbert, and nothing else.

Somehow, Gilbert maneuvered them onto the porch and up the wooden steps without tripping. Arthur was glad he had left the front door open as they stumbled over the threshold. He blindly reached out, grappling for the door to swing it shut, but he couldn’t find it without letting go of Gilbert’s lips, which was not an option at that moment.

Gilbert managed to close the door, but he wasn’t moving. At least, not forward, anyways; he was doing some odd sort of shuffling. Arthur licked the inside of his mouth once more before he grudgingly broke the kiss, leaning back just a bit to glare at the man.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growled, dipping down to nibble at Gilbert’s lower lip.

“Taking off my shoes,” Gilbert muttered, frowning.

“Forget the fucking shoes,” Arthur grumbled, tugging on Gilbert’s hair and yanking his head backwards, exposing his neck. Arthur leaned down and attacked the pale skin, making Gilbert groan.

“But-”

“Just get to the fucking bed, Gilbert,” Arthur snapped.

“My, my, you’re bossy,” Gilbert chuckled.

“You already knew that,” Arthur purred.

“I know,” Gilbert whispered, smiling softly. Arthur immediately moved his lips to press them against Gilbert’s, unable to stop his own smile.

The two were silent as Gilbert carried Arthur carefully up the steps. Arthur, deciding he needed a little challenge, kissed and licked and sucked his way up and down Gilbert’s neck. He was immensely proud when he made the man stumble at the top of the staircase, not worried a single bit that they would tumble.

Arthur felt Gilbert weave towards the bedroom, hand still wrapped around his shoulders and the other still tangled in the pale locks. Gilbert’s hands under his ass never wavered, massaging it the closer they got to the room. Arthur, feeling adventurous, wiggled his hips slightly.

Gilbert staggered backwards a step as he gasped into Arthur’s mouth. The blond smirked, and Gilbert let out a soft growl. The two stared at each other, breathing in the other’s gasping breaths as Gilbert finally made it into the bedroom.

They bypassed the light switch, but it wasn’t needed as Gilbert steered them easily to the bed. Arthur kissed Gilbert once more, felt them fall and he landed softly, cradled by Gilbert’s grip, on top of the covers. He moved his fingers from the tall man’s neck and head, gripping the front of Gilbert’s wet shirt. He still had his legs hooked around Gilbert’s waist. Gilbert had one arm next to Arthur’s head, while the other was hooked around the small of his back.

The two kissed deeply, reveling in the feel of one another. Arthur never wanted the moment end. Their tongues resumed their earlier dance, swirling and twirling around each other, gathering a rhythm that was new and exciting to each of them.

Gilbert ground down his hips, making Arthur groan into his mouth. They were both running out of breath, but neither wanted to break from each other. Arthur was sure that, if he let go now, then he’d die, and not because of oxygen deprivation. He was positive that he’d die because Gilbert wasn’t connected to him.

Arthur gasped for breath as Gilbert broke the kiss, but didn’t move away. The two stared at each other, eyes wide. Arthur unhooked one hand and moved it up to Gilbert’s face, gently pushing the hair from his eyes. He smiled softly, and Gilbert returned it.

The two stayed like that for a long moment, just gazing at each other and holding one another, catching their breath. Arthur didn’t want to look away, too engrossed in the red pools before him to pay attention, to care, about anything else.

All that mattered was Gilbert was here, with him, and he didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.

No words were needed as Arthur leaned up, meeting Gilbert’s lips with his own once more, kiss much gentler and less needy than before. He idly played with the strands at the nape of Gilbert’s neck as they kissed, Arthur leaning back, dragging his teeth along Gilbert’s bottom lip and pulling it with him. It smacked back to Gilbert’s mouth with a succulent noise. Arthur licked his lips as he let his head fall back.

Once more he looked up into Gilbert’s eyes, surprised to find no hint of lust there. It startled him a bit, unused to the sight. He had never paid attention to Gilbert’s expressions during sex before. The only person he had ever looked eye to eye with during these intimate times had been Neeraja. And Arthur had never, ever seen the look on his ex’s face that was currently on Gilbert’s face.

It made him warm and happy inside to see nothing but unconditional _love_ etched into every fiber of Gilbert’s expression as he gazed unwaveringly at Arthur.

“What’s wrong?” Gilbert whispered, moving his hand on the bed to stroke Arthur’s hair.

Arthur smiled warmly up at him. “Absolutely nothing,” he breathed.

Gilbert returned the smile, and Arthur’s heart raced, feeling butterflies in his stomach. He leaned up, capturing Gilbert in another slow, deliberate, passionate kiss, deepening it as much as he could.

He continued to sit up, twisting a bit as Gilbert maneuvered them to a sitting position on the bed. Arthur ended up in Gilbert’s lap, legs on either side of his hips and holding the pale man’s face in both of his hands. Gilbert kept one hand on Arthur’s back, firm and strong, and the other in Arthur’s hair, gently massaging the back of the blonde’s head.

The two kissed long and hard and deep, barely breaking for air. Slowly, Gilbert’s hand moved downward, brushing over the top of Arthur’s wet jeans. Arthur jerked his hips slightly and Gilbert shuddered as their crotches brushed. He lowered his hand more, dipping between Arthur’s jeans and boxers, effectively groping his ass.

Arthur hummed in pleasure, slowly rocking back and forth a bit more, moving his hands to Gilbert’s shoulders as he began to kiss down the man’s neck. He latched onto a spot, licked it once, and then wrapped his lips around it, sucking hard. Gilbert turned his neck, allowing him better access, letting out a satisfied moan. Arthur smirked against his neck.

Once he was satisfied at the mark he left, Arthur removed his lips, licking the area once before kissing downwards to Gilbert’s exposed collarbone. His wet t-shirt, heavy from the water, had slipped down, exposing the delicious skin underneath. Arthur pressed a small kiss to the slender area, then worked his way back up to Gilbert’s mouth.

He kissed the corner of his mouth before working along the jaw line to his earlobe, where he sucked on it gently. Gilbert gave a small jerk, hips rubbing against Arthur’s as his hand tightened on Arthur’s ass. Arthur grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to the area where Gilbert’s jaw met his neck.

“A little sensitive, are we?” he hummed quietly.

“Shut up,” Gilbert growled, but there wasn’t any heat in it.

Arthur chuckled, moving his hands towards the bottom of Gilbert’s shirt. He gave it a little tug, and Gilbert obediently lifted his arms up as Arthur slipped the garment off. For once, he didn’t care where the wet shirt landed, too busy running his hands over Gilbert’s pale chest.

This time it was Gilbert who leaned forward to kiss Arthur, arms wrapping around the blond as he fell backwards. Arthur straddled his lap as he landed. Without warning, he ground down on Gilbert’s crotch, smirking at the hiss the man let out, before kissing Gilbert’s chest.

His hands roamed the familiar territory, finding all the right places to make the man beneath him squirm. But something was different about it all. While his hands knew and wandered without prompt, Arthur’s mouth tracing patterns of kisses along Gilbert’s neckline, Arthur realized that, never before, had he really paid attention to Gilbert.

He had never noticed the pleasant sound Gilbert muffled when his fingers ghosted over his ribs, or the barely there whimper that escaped his mouth as Arthur bypassed an erect nipple. Never before had he seen the man’s eyelid shutter when he sucked at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, or the way he shivered when Arthur let his warm breath flow over the cool saliva left by his tongue.

Arthur smiled, kissing Gilbert once, twice, and a third time before he allowed his hands to wander to Gilbert’s crotch, undoing the button and zipper on his jeans. He heard Gilbert kick his shoes off, heard them thump to the ground, and tugged down the pants. Gilbert’s black boxers were tented already, and Arthur smirked.

“Eager, are we?” he asked.

“Look who’s talking,” Gilbert replied, licking his lips as his eyes flicked downward to Arthur’s own clothed erection. “If I have to be undressed, then so do you.”

Arthur grinned. “Nothing’s stopping you.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes, but reached up and began to unbutton Arthur’s shirt. It took only a moment before it was undone, and Gilbert nearly ripped it off of the blond in his haste to get it off. He licked his lips as he let his eyes roam over Arthur’s chest.

Arthur, for the first time, didn’t feel self-conscious; and it wasn’t because Gilbert had already seen his small chest before. He felt nothing but love in Gilbert’s gaze and he smiled. He leaned down to whisper in Gilbert’s ear.

“What do you say we get rid of these pant’s, huh?”

He took pleasure in the way Gilbert shuddered beneath him. “Ja,” he whispered.

Arthur smirked, licked the shell of Gilbert’s ear, and sat up. He made easy work of the man’s pants before he slipped his own shoes off, following it with his jeans as well. Both down to their boxers, they hardly noticed as Gilbert lurched up and grabbed Arthur’s face, kissing him eagerly. Arthur grinned against his lips.

The blond, not one to be outdone, reached down between them and palmed Gilbert’s erection. Gilbert gasped into his mouth, eyes flying wide as his hips jerked. Arthur suppressed a groan at the movement as his own crotch twitched at the contact.

“Oh,” Gilbert panted, warm breath on flowing over Arthur’s lips.

“Is that all you can say?” Arthur asked, fondling the balls in his hands.

Gilbert let out a hiss before his hands shot forward, pulling down Arthur’s boxers in one swift movement. Arthur started as the cool air hit his warm erection, eyes widening as Gilbert wrapped a large hand around his cock and gave it a soft but firm tug.

“Oh!” he cried.

Gilbert leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of Arthur’s mouth, grinning. “Is that all you can say?” he smirked, tugging once more.

Arthur sent him a weak, amused glare.

“If I have to get undressed, so do you,” he taunted.

Gilbert shook his head, spinning them around pressing Arthur into the mattress on his back. He reached out, slowly removed Arthur’s boxers one leg at a time, red eyes boring into Arthur’s green ones.

Arthur found that he couldn’t look away, watching as the man also removed his socks. Everything was soaking wet, including their bodies, but that didn’t stop Gilbert from pressing a gentle kiss to the bottom of Arthur’s big toe. Arthur watched, eyes narrowed, as Gilbert continued to press small kisses along his leg, moving up slowly, gaze never wavering from Arthur’s.

When he reached Gilbert’s thigh, Gilbert kissed a spot in the middle on the inside, making Arthur shiver. His dick was already leaking precum, a small bead on the head as Gilbert moved slowly, agonizingly slow, towards it.

He jerked when Gilbert raised a hand and took his cock into his grip. Arthur watched as Gilbert pressed one last kiss to his hip before he snaked his tongue out, wrapping it around the head.

Arthur groaned, hands flying towards Gilbert’s head, looking for something to grip onto as Gilbert’s warm mouth sucked at the tip of his penis. Gilbert, still not breaking eye contact, grabbed his hands and forced them to the side, giving them a small, firm squeeze, implying that Arthur should keep them there, before he removed them. Arthur grit his teeth, fingers curling into the sheets as Gilbert slowly inched his way down his shaft, fingers expertly handling his balls as he rolled them between his fingers.

It took a long time, too long, before Gilbert reached the small patch of hair at the end of Arthur’s cock. His warm breath was too hot on Arthur’s sensitive skin, and he felt like his jaw would break from how tightly he was grinding his teeth. He so badly wanted to take Gilbert’s head in his hands, to hold him steady as he jerked his hips back and forth, dick in Gilbert’s mouth.

But Gilbert’s one hand, the one that wasn’t doing that _amazing_ thing with his sac, was firmly holding his hips down.

Slowly, Gilbert moved backwards, tongue trailing the bottom of Arthur’s cock, teeth just barely scraping the top, all the way to the tip. Arthur gasped.

“Holy shiiiiiiit,” he breathed, grabbing a handful of sheets.

Inch by inch, Gilbert moved back down until Arthur was entirely in his mouth. But he didn’t just stop there, oh no. Gilbert, for the love of all things holy, _hummed_.

He hummed, the vibrations traveling through the entirety of Arthur’s body, making him finally break eye contact with Gilbert as he tipped his head back, clutching at the sheets. Gilbert’s hand on his hip held him down, the other abandoning his balls to join its mate as Arthur’s hips jerked.

And then, just when Arthur didn’t think he’d last, Gilbert stopped. Arthur let his head fall to the side as he gulped in a deep breath. He groaned.

It was then that he realized that Gilbert still had his dick in his mouth, and that he had begun to suck.

The most obscene noises reached Arthur’s ears, his member twitching slightly as Gilbert allowed his saliva to completely coat it. Arthur moaned again, feeling immense heat pooling in his belly as Gilbert allowed his cheeks to hollow as he pulled his head to the tip of Arthur’s cock. He licked the head of the member, tongue dipping into the slit and making Arthur shudder as Gilbert moved back down, taking Arthur completely in his mouth.

“Gilbert, stop,” he gasped, one hand flying down to weakly push the man away when he reached the tip. Gilbert’s lips came away with a small _smack_ , a trail of saliva trailing from his lips. Arthur let out a groan and shut his eyes against the sight. He grit his teeth when he felt Gilbert kiss the inside of his thighs. “I’m not going to make it if you keep this up.”

Gilbert smiled against his skin and pressed one last kiss to his leg before he crawled back up to Arthur’s face and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Arthur parted his lips, licking inside Gilbert’s mouth, trying to see if he could taste himself on Gilbert’s tongue.

They broke after a moment.

“I’ll get the lube,” Gilbert whispered, kissing Arthur’s lips quickly before he rolled to the side, reaching over to open the nightstand besides Arthur’s bed.

Arthur turned his head to look at the man, eyes narrowing at the sight. Gilbert, struggling to reach the lube in the drawer, had stuck his ass, his _boxer clad_ ass, into the air a bit as he rummaged. The blond felt a little irked.

How dare Gilbert still be clothed? And how dare he present this magnificent sight to Arthur, who was still reeling from the turn on of Gilbert’s face while he sucked him off?

Like lightening, Arthur shot up to his knees. Just as Gilbert wrapped his fingers around the bottle, Arthur grabbed him by the waist and threw him against the bed. Gilbert landed with a soft thud on his back, eyes wide as Arthur made quick work of the man’s boxers, shucking them over his shoulder and attacking Gilbert’s neck with his mouth, holding down Gilbert’s wrists on either side of his head.

“You’ve been cheating, love,” Arthur purred, licking a soft patch of skin before nipping it. He bit down hard enough to bruise, allowing his tongue to soothe the irritated area afterwards as he sucked. Gilbert’s body trembled beneath him.

Arthur pressed a kiss to the mark when he was done, kissing down to Gilbert’s clavicle when he was finished. He raised he eyes to glance at the man, blinking in surprise as he met Gilbert’s gaze.

The man was watching him with wide eyes, pupils blown so wide that Arthur could barely see the ring of red around them. Gilbert’s hair, wet with rainwater and now sweat, clung to his pale forehead and stuck up in different directions. Arthur gave him a small smile, which he returned weakly before his head tipped backwards as Arthur moved his mouth to lick at Gilbert’s nipple.

A small groan escaped Gilbert’s lips, and Arthur smirked. He opened his mouth, planting it completely over Gilbert’s nipple and swirling his tongue around the area. He felt the man jerk and arch up into him, the fist that was holding onto the bottle of lube opening as Gilbert tugged against Arthur’s hold.

Arthur released his mouth with a soft _pop_ and licked his lips as he grinned at Gilbert. He kissed the man, just a small brush of lips, before he let go of Gilbert’s wrist, pressing a kiss to the underside of each in a silent command to keep them there.

Gilbert gave a small nod in confirmation, and Arthur briefly wondered what he himself looked like to make Gilbert look at him like that. Never before had they had any of these reactions whilst during sex.

But then again, Arthur told himself, they’d never made love before.

Arthur swiped up the lube bottle, squirting a generous amount onto his fingers. He rubbed his hands together, getting the substance over both his hands. One he lowered to Gilbert’s hole, purposely ignoring his leaking cock. He swirled a single finger around the entrance a few times before he slipped it in, while pinching Gilbert’s neglected nipple with his other hand.

The whimper Gilbert made was delicious and Arthur had to pause briefly to calm himself down. He wiggled his finger inside Gilbert, beginning to stretch him as he pushed it in and out slowly.

Arthur, for the first time, watched Gilbert as he prepared him. From the way the pale man’s legs spread farther, trembling with the effort of holding them up, to the way he clenched his eyes shut as Arthur inserted a second fingers a few moments later were all so new to Arthur. He had never noticed the way Gilbert wriggled slightly when he pinched a nipple, or how he gasped quietly when Arthur twisted his fingers before.

He was enthralled, captivated by the sounds, the soft pants and gasps that Gilbert made. The way he breathed heavily through his nose when Arthur’s wet fingers ghosted over his sides, how he let out a small whine when Arthur came so close to his crotch, fingers breaking away at the last second, all of it, every single whimper and pant and gasp and whine and breath had Arthur under a spell.

He would have been perfectly happy just watching Gilbert forever if his own dick didn’t throb with need almost painfully.

When he inserted a third finger, pushing in and pulling out a few times before curling them inside, Gilbert’s entire body jerked, hands twisting in the sheets.

Arthur smirked. “Ahh, there it is,” he whispered, letting his wandering hand abandon Gilbert’s torso as he grabbed the shaky leg next to him and hooked it over a shoulder. He lowered the one on his other side and gently guided it to wrap around Arthur’s waist. He curled his fingers once more as Gilbert let out a loud groan.

“You like that?” Arthur asked, quietly, stroking once more.

Gilbert yelped, body instinctively impaling himself more onto Arthur’s fingers. The blond was enthralled by how, for the first time, he had managed to reduce Gilbert to barely coherent; and they’d barely just begun.

“Shh, love,” Arthur soothed, stroking Gilbert’s hip lightly. He watched as Gilbert swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing a bit, red eyes trained on him. He curled his fingers again.

The moan that Gilbert let out was so dirty that Arthur thought for sure that he would just come then and there, without even entering Gilbert or even touching himself. He grit his teeth a bit, jaw tense as Gilbert wriggled beneath him, trying to get him to do that again.

Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. Gilbert was stretched fully now, and he removed his hand. Gilbert whimpered at the loss before Arthur leaned down and kissed him deeply. Gilbert’s lips immediately parted, tongue shooting out to hug Arthur’s.

Their cocks brushed briefly, both groaning into the other’s mouth. They broke for a moment as Arthur quickly applied lube to his cock before he positioned himself at Gilbert’s hole, slowly guiding the tip in.

Gilbert gasped once, before he sighed into Arthur’s mouth as the blond leaned down to swallow the sound, inching in slowly until he was buried to the hilt. He and Gilbert kissed, tongues chasing each other as Arthur allowed Gilbert to get comfortable for a moment before he slowly moved out a bit before thrusting back in, allowing the sounds Gilbert made to flow down his throat.

Arthur did the motion again, parting with Gilbert’s lips as he did so, listening to Gilbert’s sounds. Between the noises Gilbert was making-and Arthur had never heard these sounds come out of Gilbert before; he was pretty sure the pale man had no idea that he was even making them-and the warm heat that surrounded them, Arthur wasn’t sure how long he would last.

Gilbert’s neglected cock lay on his stomach, bouncing with each thrust that Arthur gave, precum beading at the top.

Still, Arthur ignored it, preferring to watch Gilbert instead. The way his mouth formed a small “o” as Arthur, buried once more, circled his hips was the most delicious sight the blond had ever seen.

Arthur pulled out a bit more the next time, increasing his speed as he thrust back in, rolling his hips at the same time.

“Heilige Scheiße,” Gilbert moaned shakily, eyes flying wide as he grappled at the sheets under his hands.

Arthur grinned.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“Ja,” Gilbert replied breathlessly. “Can I touch you?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow in surprise. No one had ever asked that before. Gilbert had never asked that before when they’d had sex.

_This isn’t just sex anymore_ , Arthur’s mind reminded him.

Apparently, Gilbert felt the same.

Arthur nodded, and Gilbert raised a hand, reaching out to tangle it in Arthur’s hair, bringing him down to kiss him once, letting up pressure after. He gazed into Arthur’s green eyes, foreheads touching as he wrapped his other arm around Arthur’s neck.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Arthur,” he whispered.

Never before, and especially not in the throws of passion, had anyone ever said that to Arthur before. He felt his face heat up and he moved his head to bury it into the crook of Gilbert’s neck.

“Don’t leave,” he muttered.

He felt Gilbert shake his head. The two trembled and Arthur pulled out slightly before sliding back in.

Gilbert’s hand in his hair tightened as Arthur moved again, and again, and again, pulling out a bit more each time until nothing but the head remained buried in Gilbert. Arthur slid back in, pulled out, and then in.

The two began to rock back and forth, bed creaking slightly as a rhythm was established. They kissed as they moved. Arthur’s pace began to increase, the friction he was creating too amazing to continue at the lazy pace.

Faster and faster they moved, both moaning and groaning as their pace increased, kisses becoming sloppy and needy. Arthur shifted, throwing Gilbert’s other leg over his bare shoulder, pressing himself as close as possible before he pulled out and slammed back in.

“Ghng,” Gilbert choked, clenching his eyes shut.

“Nnng,” Arthur agreed.

Arthur pulled out once more, then moved back in, moving faster and faster. Gilbert’s arms tightened and, pace still quick, Arthur reached up, grabbing Gilbert’s hand from his hair and pressed it into the mattress, intertwining their fingers.

With his other hand he reached down between them, finally gripping Gilbert’s dick.

“Fuck!” Gilbert cried when he wrapped his fingers around him.

Arthur smiled, hips thrusting quickly as he began to stroke Gilbert, motions off time with his pace. Gilbert arched into his grip and Arthur pressed a kiss to his chest, tightening his hold on the man’s hand.

“Just a little longer, love,” Arthur groaned, not sure he would be able to keep his own promise.

Gilbert didn’t respond, mouth agape in a silent scream as Arthur rolled his hips as he slammed back in. Arthur didn’t give him time to recover, doing it again and stroking his dick at the same time, hand moving faster and faster, finally in time with his thrusts.

“Holy shit,” he moaned, pressing his forehead into Gilbert’s shoulder as his pace increased, his hips actually beginning to ache at the amount of force and the speed he was using.

He felt Gilbert tug at his hair and allowed the man to pull him back to his mouth. Still stroking, still thrusting, he felt Gilbert tense under his hand, felt his cock stiffen as hot release splashed over his hand. Arthur swallowed his scream, stroking him through it, pace increasing to the point where he could take it no more. With a long groan in Gilbert’s mouth, Arthur spilled himself into Gilbert, riding through the waves with a shudder as he finished with his hand on Gilbert’s member.

The two broke apart, gasping for air as their bodies vibrated, breath mingling with each other. They locked gazes, eyes wide, Christmas colors in the dead of night that was unable to be torn apart, hands still locked in embrace.

Gilbert smiled tiredly at Arthur, who returned it. He slowly slipped out of Gilbert, the pale man’s legs dropping like dead weight as Arthur rolled off of him.

Rain pounded against the window and thunder clapped, rattling the frame a bit as they finished catching their breath, each staring at the ceiling, lost in a haze of their own thoughts and fears.

Arthur listened to the storm rage around them, taking comfort in the sound. Electricity was in the air, but he wasn’t so sure it was from the lightening.

Trepidation and hesitation coursed through the blond as he lay there in the quiet. Apprehension gripped him.

Could he handle this? Could he really, truly, be okay with where this was going? How was he going to handle the rejection that inevitably followed once Gilbert was finished with him? Arthur already went through that once, he didn’t think his being could handle another…

“Are we doing this?” came a quiet voice from beside him.

Arthur lolled his head to the side and gazed at the other man.

Gilbert was staring at the ceiling, a frown on his tired face, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat and rain water. His chest still heaved up and down.

“Doing what?” Arthur asked, though he already knew the answer. He knew exactly what the other man was talking about, but he was unsure whether or not Gilbert was feeling the same thing he was.

The frown on the younger man’s face deepened as he glanced out of the corner of his eye at Arthur. He weakly raised a hand halfway to gesture between them. “This…”

Arthur sighed, returning to looking at the spot on his ceiling.

“I don’t know…” he replied softly.

Gilbert was silent and Arthur bit his lip.

“I want to,” he breathed. “I really, really do. I love you no matter how annoying you are or what you do or say. I can’t pinpoint when that happened but it did…”

“… Do you regret it…?” Gilbert’s voice was small, a cautious hurt lingering underneath.

“Not one second,” Arthur said, confidently, with no hesitation. “I’d do it all again. Just… maybe without all the drama.”

“Pussy,” Gilbert snorted in amusement.

Arthur chuckled a little. “But…” he went on, unsure of how to voice his worries.

Gilbert, for his part, was quiet as Arthur sorted out his thoughts, and Arthur found himself loving the man more for it.

The blond raised a hand and ran it down his face as he groaned. “But I’m just not sure…” he sighed. “Gilbert, is this really what you want? Because if it’s not, then you need to leave… because I’ve already had my heart broken by someone I _thought_ I loved. I don’t think I’d be able to handle what might happen if it’s broken by someone I really do actually love…”

Gilbert remained silent for so long that Arthur felt his resolved slipping. This was a mistake… they never should have done this. If everything had been screwed before, now it was unsalvageable.

A slight shifting made Arthur turn to look at the other man. Gilbert had turned his head to face him, glare on his furious face.

“You are insufferable,” he growled. Arthur blinked in surprise. “You are completely infuriating and thick headed and idiotic and if I could move right now, I might punch you in the face.”

Arthur stared at him.

“I just walked all the way from my brother’s house to confess my undying love for you, and after you tell me you love me back and some of the most amazing sex I’ve ever had in my entire life, you _doubt_ me? I mean, I get that you’ve got some issues, but so do I, and I honestly thought that after this, after everything, you might see that I could never leave… you…”

Arthur smiled as he shifted. The blond brought Gilbert’s hand to his lips where pressed a soft kiss to the back it before he stroked it gently until both their breathing returned to normal. He met Gilbert’s tired and confused gaze.

“So,” he whispered.

“So?” Gilbert asked just as quiet. Once more, he didn’t seem able to tear his eyes away from Arthur’s. Arthur was okay with this fact.

“So, we’re in love,” Arthur told him quietly.

Gilbert’s eyes searched his, roaming over his entire face before he smiled softly, still sleepy, but also fond. “I guess so,” he said, just as quiet.

“And what, exactly, do we do now that we’ve confessed our love for one another?” Arthur asked, voice still low. He was afraid that if he raised it any louder, then he’d break the magic spell that was currently over the two. And if Arthur got his way, they’d never break that spell.

Gilbert shrugged. “Live happily ever after?”

“That only happens in fairy tales.”

“I want to be your fairy tale.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he felt his cheeks heat up as he blushed. “That was cheesy,” he said, goofy smile forming on his face that he was powerless to stop.

“It’s true,” Gilbert whispered. He wasn’t smiling, but there was still a hint of amusement on his face.

Arthur scooted closer to Gilbert. The man stared at him. “Fairy tales are just that, Gilbert,” he said.  “Fairy tales. They don’t happen in real life.”

“We did,” Gilbert told him.

“We’re not a fairy tale,” Arthur argued. “And I can tell you right now that our lives are not going to be a fairy tale either.”

“You planning on going anywhere, Arthur?”

“Are you?”

Gilbert smiled at him. “No where you aren’t,” he whispered.

Arthur returned the grin, giving Gilbert one last kiss on the mouth.

“Well, what do we do now?” he asked.

Gilbert shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve never been in love before.”

“Neither have I,” Arthur told him.

That earned him a confused frown. “But I thought… I mean… what about Neeraja?”

Arthur smiled, unable to hide it. “I wasn’t in love with Neeraja.”

“But… I thought you…”

The blond shook his head. “Whatever I felt with Neeraja doesn’t even compare to what I feel right now, here with you.”

Gilbert blushed. Arthur reached with his free hand to run cup the man’s face, brushing a thumb over the pale cheek.

“Gilbert, I’ve never felt this way before in my life,” Arthur whispered. “I feel like I’m falling, but I’m not afraid. There’s nothing but wind in my ears and I’ve got butterflies in my stomach and they just won’t let up, but I’m not scared. I’m not scared because I know, somehow, that you’ll be there to catch me. You won’t let me crash to the ground. And in my entire relationship with Neeraja, I’ve never felt that way.”

Gilbert gave him a smile as he leaned into the touch.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay?” Arthur told him softly.

“Promise,” Gilbert said quietly.

“Promise?” Arthur reiterated, hating how his voice sounded so small.

“Cross my heart,” Gilbert breathed.

Arthur gave him a smile. “Move in with me?”

The look of pure joy on Gilbert’s face told him that his spur of the moment decision was a good one. The other man nodded, and Arthur’s smile widened.

He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissed Gilbert’s once more, and then reached over, fingers still intertwined, to rest his arm over Gilbert’s chest. Arthur laid his head on the man’s shoulder and hooked a leg around one of his lover’s. He felt Gilbert’s free arm wrap around him, lightly stroking his arm.

“I love you,” Arthur whispered, kissing Gilbert’s shoulder.

He felt Gilbert press a kiss into his hair, and then mutter his own response.

“I love you, too.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

Arthur couldn’t help the goofy grin that formed on his face as he listened to Gilbert’s breaths slow.

Yes, he had made a very, very good decision. In more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fail at smut...
> 
> (yes, that is a Tangled reference...)


	13. Eyes look like coming home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braced for impact.

_“Don’t you ever look away…”_

* * *

 

 When Arthur opened his front door, he stopped in surprise.

Elizaveta was the last person he expected to see.

“Uh, hello,” he said awkwardly, confused.

The woman offered him a suspiciously sweet smile, her hard eyes promising nothing of the sort.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully.

They stared at each other for a moment.

“How did you…?” Arthur asked slowly, letting his question trail off as he raised an eyebrow.

“Alfred,” Elizaveta supplied with a nonchalant shrug.

Arthur sighed, shoulders slumping. “Of course,” he said.

He was going to have to talk to Alfred about giving away his personal information to anyone who just asked.

Elizaveta just grinned at him.

“So… um…” Arthur stumbled over his words.

“I think we need to talk,” Elizaveta said lightly as she stepped forward and brushed past him into the house.

Arthur stood there for a moment, wide eyed, before he spun around to stare at Elizaveta.

“Excuse me?” he asked. No, his voice was not an octave higher; his foyer was just bad at carrying sound.

Elizaveta was running an appraising eye over his hall, purse clutched at her side. She was wearing a flowy sundress and sandles, and Arthur had to admit that she was very beautiful in a very plain, down to earth way.

“Hmm, very nice,” Elizaveta praised. “Not bad.”

“Yes, I’d like to know why you burst into my house and what we supposedly need to talk about,” Arthur groused, closing the door and crossing his arms.

Elizaveta sent him a predatory grin and Arthur took an involuntary step backwards.

“I thought that was obvious,” she purred.

The blond gulped.

With only a few steps, Elizaveta had closed the distance between them so that they were standing only a few feet apart.

“I’d like to know why you broke Gilbert’s heart,” she whispered.

Arthur blinked. “Pardon?”

Elizaveta’s face was murderous. “Remember when, at my wedding shower, I told you that I’d beat the shit out of you if you hurt him?”

Arthur gulped, backing up a bit more. He raised his hands up in surrender. “Look, Elizaveta, you’ve got the wrong idea,” he tried.

But the woman wasn’t having any of it. She glowered at Arthur. “I may not be his best friend, and I may not always show it, but I care for that man. And do you have any idea what he’s been like these past few weeks? He’s been miserable. More than before. He barely eats, all he does is lock himself up in that basement room of his doing God-knows-what. He won’t answer any phone calls or texts and Ludwig says that he’s broken countless things in an angry rage.

“Now, don’t even try to deny it because lately, _you_ are all he talks about and how happy you make him is obvious and whatever you did, you took that away from him. Gilbert’s been through hell and back and I finally thought that, maybe, he’d finally found something good with you, but you’ve been worse than anyone else and I can’t just sit by and watch him go through all that hurt again.”

Elizaveta’s face was livid, her voice deadly quiet as she stalked towards Arthur.

For his part, Arthur was impressed that she’d come all this way just to threaten him. At least Gilbert had one person in his life who generally cared about him in her own way, even if he didn’t know it.

On the other hand, the blond was sufficiently terrified of the woman before him. His back was pressed against the wall as he gazed at her with dignified fear.

Sir Ignatius watched amused from the bottom step.

“Now, I would like to hear _why_ ,” Elizaveta snapped hostile yet sweet, “exactly, you played with Gilbert’s feelings before I pummel you into dust.”

It took Arthur a good minute before he could find his voice again. When he spoke, he was internally glad that his voice was the correct pitch and only wavered slightly.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I didn’t intentionally hurt Gilbert,” he explained. He quickly went on at the eyebrow Elizaveta raised. “I was… confused and unsure of what I was doing, of what I was feeling. Unfortunately, I came across… a complicated situation that I thought I could handle on my own and Gilbert got caught in the crossfire and it took me a while, but I finally figured everything out. Gilbert and I are okay now.” He smiled a bit as he thought of his boyfriend. “We’re more than okay, actually…”

Elizaveta was quiet for a long time, her green eyes unwavering from Arthur’s. The blond never broke eye contact.

“What does that mean, exactly?” she demanded after a moment.

Arthur couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. “He’s… he’s moving in with me. He should actually be here soon with a few boxes.”

The woman before him studied him carefully.

“Gilbert is moving in with you,” she confirmed.

Arthur nodded. “Yes.”

“So you two are together, now?” she asked.

The Brit smiled softly. “Yes. Yes we are.”

“This isn’t some sort of evil prank, is it?” Elizaveta narrowed her eyes.

“No,” Arthur promised. His smile grew a little more. “I love him…”

Elizaveta’s face showed nothing but surprise. She searched his face for a long while, gaze unyielding before she leaned back and stood up straight.

“You’re not lying,” she deduced, eyes wide.

Arthur shook his head. “I’m not in the business of lying. Especially when it comes to stuff like this. Especially when… when Gilbert is involved.”

The brunette watched him closely, then smiled a bit and chuckled, shaking her head.

“You really mean it.”

Arthur nodded.

Elizaveta let out a soft laugh. “Well I’ll be damned.”

Arthur remained silent, unsure of how to react.

The woman smiled warmly at him. “Arthur, I believe I owe you an apology,” she told him. “I thought that you were just toying with Gilbert, and was fully prepared to smash your face into the floor.”

“It’s okay,” Arthur smiled. It faltered for a moment. “I think…”

Elizaveta laughed. “So, you really love him?”

“More than you know,” Arthur replied.

The front door suddenly opened and Gilbert strolled through, box in hand. He shut the door with his hip.

“Hey, Arthur, what do you want me to do with the-” he stopped midsentence when he turned around and saw Elizaveta watching him with amusement. “’Liza? What’re you doing here?” He glanced back at Arthur who grinned at him.

“Just came by to see the new place,” she told him. “I’d love to stay, but Roderich and I have some wedding planning to do.”

Arthur strode up to Gilbert as Elizaveta walked to the door. He took the box from the taller man, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Gilbert looked suspiciously at her. “Uh huh…” he said.

Elizaveta laughed. “Well, that, and I had to make sure your new boyfriend wasn’t a serial killing psychopath.” With a wink at Arthur, she slipped out the door.

The second she was gone, Gilbert whirled on Arthur.

“What’d she really want?” he asked, eyes narrowed. “What’d she say?”

Arthur laughed. “Nothing bad, I promise,” he said. He knocked Gilbert’s shoulder and started off down the hall. “Come on, let’s unpack your car before Ludwig get’s here with the van.”

* * *

Arthur wiped his forehead, frowning. 

“You’ve got a lot of shit,” he told Gilbert, who walked into the room and set down a box labeled _sweatshirts_ on the side in the man’s scribbled handwriting.

“Hey, these are all important to me,” the pale man argued. “I need everything I packed.”

“You brought a Uhaul,” Arthur deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

“Correction,” Gilbert said, holding up a finger. “ _West_ brought a Uhaul.”

“And he’s very thrilled about it,” a sarcastic voice said, right before Ludwig carried in a huge box and set it next to his brother’s. “Arthur’s right, bruder, you’ve got a lot of shit.”

“Well, it’s my shit, and I like it,” Gilbert snapped, and Arthur stepped up, grabbing his hand as he sensed an incoming argument.

“Why don’t we take a break,” he suggested. “I’ll make us some sandwiches. Gil, why don’t you and Ludwig grab some beers and I’ll meet you out on the porch?”

“Fine,” Gilbert grumbled. He gave Arthur’s hand a small squeeze and leaned down to kiss him quickly. “Come on, West. Give those huge muscles a break.”

Arthur let his hand go as the man and Ludwig headed towards the back door, stopping at the blue cooler that had been set aside earlier to grab a few beers in each hand.

“My muscles wouldn’t need a break if you didn’t have so much shit,” Ludwig muttered.

“It’s all important,” Gilbert told him, sending him a small glare.

“So everything in that box labeled _Things_ has…?”

“Stuff.”

“Bruder, it’s just odd trinkets and gadgets. Stuff that’s not useful or has any financial value.”

“Just because it isn’t expensive doesn’t mean it isn’t special, West.”

Arthur let himself smile a little as he headed towards the kitchen to make their sandwiches; it was the one thing that Gilbert allowed him to do. He didn’t make them as fancy or full as his boyfriend, but at least Arthur didn’t set anything fire while he was doing it.

The blonde’s smiled as the thought crossed through his mind. _Boyfriend_. He and Gilbert were in an actual, functional, steady relationship. Arthur couldn’t believe it. Almost a year ago, he had gone to a party for a family friend, intending to leave, when he’d met a drunken man for a total of ten minutes.

And then the next weekend, that same man had tracked Arthur down for reasons unknown, claiming that he wanted a new project to work on because he was bored. Who would have thought that one drunken night would lead to something so wonderful, so extraordinary, so beautiful, and so _right_.

Arthur would do it again in a heartbeat.

He finished making the sandwiches and headed out to the porch, joining the subject of his thoughts and Ludwig. The three talked and bantered and joked for a while before they went back to work, finishing emptying out the moving truck.

“Now, you’re sure about this, bruder?” Ludwig asked when they were done, raising an eyebrow.

“Never been so sure in my life, West,” Gilbert said as Arthur smiled. Gilbert wrapped and arm around his shoulders and tugged him closer. “Besides, it’s too late now. We already moved everything inside.”

“Well, alright,” Ludwig replied. He stepped forward and Arthur pushed Gilbert forward.

The two brothers embraced.

“It’s gonna be quiet in the house without you,” the taller blonde said.

Gilbert grinned. “Aw, West, miss me already?”

“I didn’t say that. It’ll be nice to have some alone time with Feli.”

Gilbert’s face clouded at the mention of future brother-in-law, but quickly covered it up. He shrugged instead.

“Guess I’ll just have to pop by to make sure you’re alright,” he smirked.

“Really, that’s quite alright,” Ludwig told him in a rush.

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t be a good großer Bruder if I didn’t.”

Arthur laughed at Ludwig’s expression, stepping forward. “Don’t worry, Ludwig,” he comforted. He clapped a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure he behaves.”

Gilbert pouted, jumping a bit when Arthur smacked his ass.

The look on Ludwig’s face was priceless, and Arthur chuckled.

“Tell Feli we said hello,” he grinned, sticking out his hand. Ludwig shook it and then climbed into the truck, waving out the window as he pulled out of the driveway.

“You’re a jerk,” Gilbert told him, without heat, when he turned around. Arthur smirked.

“Come on, let’s start unpacking,” he said, grabbing Gilbert’s hand and pulling him back inside the house. Sir Ignatius meowed at them as they closed the door.

“Wait, I have to set up Gildbird’s new cage!” Gilbert cried. “He needs to see his new home!”

“You spend way too much energy on that bird.”

“I could spend it on you, instead.”

“Unpack a bit first, then we’ll talk.”

“Arthur, you’re a cruel, cruel man.”

“I know.”

The two unpacked until dinner, when they took another break to eat. Gilbert disappeared into the bedroom to check on his bird, and Arthur stepped out onto the front porch, a cup of tea in his hands as he leaned against the railing, watching the sky turn different colors as the sun began to set.

He took a sip, setting the cup on the balcony, the steam curling up into the chilly spring air. Arthur didn’t feel the chill, though, still warm from the feelings inside. He had a good meal in his belly and love surrounding him, and he honestly could not think of anything better.

Arthur felt arms wrap around his waist as Gilbert rested his chin on the blonde’s shoulder. Arthur covered Gilbert’s arms with his own, seeking out his hand to hold. Gilbert grasped it tightly as he pressed a small kiss to Arthur’s temple.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked softly.

“How we’re going to fit all your stuff into my house,” Arthur chuckled, leaning back into the embrace. “You’ve got a lot of shit.”

“My stuff’s not shit,” Gilbert grumbled, but didn’t pull away. “Besides, you’re the one who asked me to move in.”

“ _You’re_ the one who said yes,” Arthur smirked.

“Damn right I did.”

“But do we really have to keep Gilbird in our room?”

“He likes to make sure we’re okay.”

“He likes to make sure _you’re_ okay.”

“Aw, come on. He’s warmed up to you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“He only pooped in your shoe once today. That’s pretty good.”

“Can’t we just keep him in the hall, or the guest room?”

“Iggy will get him! He’s not used to Gilbird yet. I will not put his life in jeopardy!”

“But he keeps… _glaring_ at me!”

“He’s a bird, Arthur. He can’t glare.”

“Yeah? Tell that to him.”

“I promise, the two of you will get along great… Eventually.”

“Yeah, says you.”

“Do you trust me?”

“About everything. Except that bird.”

Gilbert laughed. Arthur scowled and pursed his lips. He felt the man press another kiss into his hair. The two were silent, watching the sunset, golden light illuminating everything in a pleasant glow. Arthur was content to stay like that forever, never moving, Gilbert wrapped comfortingly around him, a solid presence that he knew would never fade.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Gilbert suddenly said, voice quiet. “About the fairy tales, I mean.”

Arthur was silent, unsure of where the other man was heading with this train of thought, frowning as he tried to remember the conversation they’d had almost a week ago.

“Have you seen any of you’re fairy tale hallucinations lately?”

Arthur shook his head. He felt Gilbert smile against his hair.

“Good. ‘Cause from now on, I’m gonna be the only fairy tale you see every day.”

Arthur blushed, unable to help the smile that formed on his face. He turned around in Gilbert’s grasp, looking up into loving red eyes.

“You’re a dork,” Arthur told him. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Gilbert mocked being affronted. “I’ll have you know that I spent hours coming up with that line!”

“Did you practice in front of the mirror?”

“No…”

“Gilbert?”

“Hey, can’t you just appreciate the time and effort that I-Mmpf!”

Arthur grinned as he pressed his lips against Gilbert’s. He melted into the taller man, moving his hands to Gilbert’s shoulders as he felt Gilbert’s own arms wrap tighter around his waist.

And as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the impending night slowly creeping up around them, a small golden sliver remained. But even when that went, as Arthur and Gilbert moved up to Arthur’s-no… _their_ \- bedroom, Arthur didn’t feel the darkness around them.

He had only been at this relationship for a week before he realized that he would never regret this decision.

For the first time in years, Arthur Kirkland felt like he could breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa.
> 
> It's over. This story is over. Holy shit, we did it, kids. I actually finished a full-length, multichapter fic.
> 
> I am so proud of this, you have no idea. Like, seriously, this is one of my best works, I'm so happy I followed through with this idea.
> 
> I wanted to thank each and every one of you, those who left kudos, reviewed, bookmarked, and just plain read this fic. You're all amazing and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I had fun writing it.
> 
> The lyrics at the beginning of the chapters are from the song "Never Look Away" by Vienna Teng and are the main inspiration for this fic, along with many others (a single line of lyrics can be found as the title of each chapter).
> 
> So thanks, guys. Thanks so very, very much.
> 
> This one's for you.

**Author's Note:**

> It's long and boring, but it sets up the mood.
> 
> It gets better, I promise.


End file.
